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niA¥ATnA 

5Y nimx WADSWORTri IPAGFELLOW 



A 
POEM 



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ILLUSTRATED BY 
JOHNREA/^EILL 



CHICAGO THE REILLY AND BRITTOAi COMPANY PUBLISHERS 



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COPYRIGHT, 1909, 
by 

THE REILLY & BRITTON CO. 

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



CCIA253846 



CONTENTS 
"o PART I 

.^ PAGE 

Editor's Preface 9 

Q rNTRODUCTIOX 15 

? /I. The Peace-Pipe 19 

>: . 11. The Four Winds 24. 

^ III. Hiawatha's Childhood 34 

IV. Hiawatha and Mudjekeewis. . 48 

V. Hiawatha's Fasting 52 

VI. Hiawatha's Friends 62 

YH. Hiawatha's Sailing 68 

VHI. Hiawatha's Fishing 73 

IX. Hiawatha and the Pearl- 
Feather 80 

. X. Hiawatha's Wooing 91 



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PART II 



XI. Hiawatha's Wedding-Feast. . .103 

XII. The Son of the Evening Star .110 

XIII. Blessing the Corn-Fields. . . .122 

XIV. Picture-writing 129 

XV. Hiawatha's Lamentation 136 

XVI. Pau-Puk-Keewis 144 

XVII. The Hunting of Pau-Puk- 
Keewis 152 

XVIII. The Death of Kwasind 164 

XIX. The Ghosts 168 

XX. The Famine 175 

XXI. The White Man's Foot 182 

XXII. Hiawatha's Departure 190 

Notes 199 



EDITOR'S PREFACE 



Wallace Rice 



in 



TTIAWATHA," rightly regarded as Henry 
-*- -■- Wadsw orth Longfellow's greatest, most 
characteristic, and most original poem, has for 
Americans the marked merit of being entirely 
concerned with tales of the aboriginal inhab- 
itants of the North American continent. It is, 
from beginning to end, a metrical version of 
legends originating with the Algonquin family 
of Indians, of which the Ojibways or Chippewas 
were the most prominent tribe. Yet Hiawatha 
himself was not of this family, but was an 
authentic historical person, neither a myth nor 
a demigod, who was a great chief among the 
Onondagas in the fifteenth century, not only 
the framer of a code of laws by which they were 
long bound but also the successful negotiator of 
the remarkable treaty by which the Five Na- 
tions, afterwards the Six Nations, were confed- 
erated ; best known to us as the Iroquois. 

LongfellGW had taken an interest in Indians 
from early youth, and early formed a plan to 
commemorate their legends in his verse. From 
Schoolcraft he obtained nearly all the material 
utilized in the cycle he named "Hiawatha." 
Originally his intention was to group the legends 
about the mythical personality of the Algonquin 
deity, Manabozho, but the beauty of the Onon- 
daga chieftain's name and the untrustworthy 



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EDITOR'S PREFACE 



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authority of Schoolcraft's "The Hiawatha Leg- 
ends" determined the ])resent title of both hero 
and j)oeni. Nevertheless, the poet's imagination 
has invested his hero with much of the character 
of the strong man who bound together the most 
compact and efficient league of Indian tribes 
known to history within the present boundaries 
of the United States — a man, be it said, who 
despised the Ojibwa^^s and all their appurtenan- 
ces with the natural distaste of the powerful 
Iroquois for the easily- defeated Algonquin. 

"Hiawatha" was begun on June 25, 1854, 
and its 5,314 lines were concluded March 29, 
1855, nine months later. Its meter, derived 
from that of the great Finnish epic, the Kale- 
vala, consists of eight-syllabled lines, with stress- 
es falling on the first, third, fifth and seventh 
syllables. Octosyllabic verse, whether trochaic, 
as here, or iambic, as in Scott's "Lays of the 
Last Minstrel," is by far the easiest of all 
measures to write; and the fact that "Hia- 
watha" is unrhymed made the American's task 
greatly easier than that of the Scotchman. 
Longfellow had a taste for exotic meters, as 
may be seen from his use of the classical hexa- 
meter in "Evangeline," but he did not succeed 
in making either the Evangeline or the Hia- 
watha measure native to the English-speaking 
peoples; and no poem of consequence has grown 
out of the trochaic tetrameter of the verses that 
follow. 

Yet there can be no doubt of the suitability 
of the measure to the subject matter here, as in 
the Kalevala. It is just the sing-song that 
would be used by a teller of tales about the 
10 



JP. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE 



campfirc, with each verse about the duration of a 
breath, lacking in rhyme so that httle particu- 
larity in memorization is demanded of the nar- 
rator, repetitive so that he can go back from 
time to time and collect his thoughts, and so 
easy of composition that a line may be made up 
on the spot to replace one lost to the mind. It 
would be no serious task to anybody to be com- ^i 
pelled to speak in these octosyllabics for a day, 
or even a week, as a slight test will prove. 

It is an excellent rule in literary composition 
to use the commonplace as the vehicle for the 
conveyance of unusual thoughts and a foreign 
atmosphere. In this, Longfellow's instinct was 
far surer than that of the critics who considered 
his work adversely at the time of its publication, 
on November 10, 1855. The mere fact that 
"Hiawatha" w^as so readily memorized — and 
that lapses in memory could be so easily covered 
up — brought it into a favor which it could never 
have attained were it rhymed, or were its measure "!;( 
that of English heroic verse. Its fluent vehicle 
bore successfully the burden of the feelings, the 
habits, the ideas of the American savage, all 
strange and exotic to English ears. It has done 
more than all the writings in the world combined 
to give the Caucasian mind an understanding 
cf and sympathy with that of the North Ameri- 
can Indian. 

Longfellow has left a careful pronouncing 
vocabulary of all the proper names used from ^r-:=_ 

the Indian languages in his poem. These show ^^rSigta^^ 
an almost bewildering confusion of vowels, some 
having the quality of French, some that of Eng- 
lish. The name of the titular hero himself is to 



EDITOR'S PREFACE 



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be pronounced as If spelled hee-ah-wal/-tha, 
though the French transliteration made It 
Hayenwatha, with \\w accent on the second syl- 
lable. The proper names throughout are used 
with the rarest skill, both to give melody and 
variety to the verse and to lend it that more 
subtle quality known as atmosphere. Even when 
most uncouth, they call to mind primeval forests 
and the devious, slender trail worn by the war- 
rior's moccasins through Immemorial ages. 

And no American can fail to derive a satisfac- 
tion, apart from poetic enjoyment, in the fact 
that thus is preserved to the world the real per- 
sonality, how^ever overlaid with myth and legend, 
of a great fellow-countryman, a contemporary 
of Columbus, and, through this poem, now 
scarcely less well know^n. 



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INTRODUCTION 



Should you ask me, whence these stories? 
Whence these legends and traditions, 
11^ With the odors of the forest, 
[ With the dew and damp of meadows, 
With the curhng smoke of wigwams, 
With the rushing of great rivers, 
A¥ith their frequent repetitions. 
And their wild reverberations. 
As a thunder in the mountains ? 

I should answer, I should tell you, 
"From the forests and the prairies, 
From the great lakes of the Northland, 
From the land of the O jib ways. 
From the land of the Dacotahs, 
From the mountains, moors, and fen-lands 
Where the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Feeds among the reeds and rushes. 
I repeat them as I heard them 
From the lips of Nawadaha, 
The musician, the sweet singer." 

Should you ask where Nawadaha 
Found these songs so wild and wayward, 
Found these legends and traditions, 
I should answer, I should tell you, 
"In the bird's-nests of the forest. 
In the lodges of the beaver, 
In the hoof -prints of the bison. 
In the eyry of the eagle ! 
15 



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Song of Hiawatha 



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"All the wild-fowl sang them to him, 
In the moorlands and the fen-lands, 
In the melancholy marshes ; 
Chetowaik, the plover, sang them, 
JNIahn, the loon, the wild goose, Wawa, 
The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
And the grouse, the Mushkodasa!" 

If still further you should ask me, 
Saying, "Who w^as Nawadaha? 
Tell us of this Nawadaha," 
I should answer your inquiries 
Straightway in such w^ords as follow. 

"In the Vale of Tawasentha, 
In the green and silent valley, 
By the pleasant water-courses. 
Dwelt the singer Nawadaha. 
Round about the Indian village 
Sj)read the meadows and the cornfields, 
And beyond them stood the forest. 
Stood the groves of singing pine-trees. 
Green in Summer, w hite in Winter, 
Ever sighing, ever singing. 

"And the pleasant water-courses. 
You could trace them through the valley. 
By the rushing in the Spring-time, 
By the alders in the Summer, 
By the white fog in the Autumn, 
By the black line in the Winter; 
And beside them dwelt the singer. 
In the vale of Tawasentha, 
In the green and silent valley. 

"There he sang of Hiawatha, 
Sang the Song of Hiawatha, 

16 _ 



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Introduction 

Sang his wondrous birth and being, 
How he prayed and how he fasted, 
How he hved, and toiled, and suffered. 
That the tribes of men might prosper. 
That he might advance his people!" 

Ye who love the haunts of Nature, 
Love the sunshine of the meadow. 
Love the shadow of the forest. 
Love the wind among the branches. 
And the rain-shower and the snow-storm. 
And the rushing of great rivers 
Through their palisades of pine-trees. 
And the thunder in the mountains. 
Whose innumerable echoes 
Flap like eagles in their eyries; — 
Listen to these wild traditions. 
To this Song of Hiawatha! 

Ye who love a nation's legends, 
Love the ballads of a people. 
That like voices from afar off 
Call to us to pause and listen. 
Speak in tones so plain and childlike, 
Scarcely can the ear distinguish 
Whether they are sung or spoken; — 
Listen to this Indian Legend, 
To this Song of Hiawatha ! 

Ye whose hearts are fresh and simple. 
Who have faith in God and Nature, 
Who believe that in all ages 
Every human heart is human, 
That in even savage bosoms 
There are longings, yearnings, strivings 
For the good they comprehend not, 
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The Song of Iliatcatha 

That the feeble hands and helpless, 
Grouping blindly in the darkness, 
Touch God's right hand in that darkness 
And are lifted up and strengthened; — - 
I^isten to this simple story. 
To this song of Hiawatha! 

Ye who sometimes, in your rambles 

^, Through the green lanes of the country, 
Where the tangled barberry-buslies 
Hang their tufts of crimson berries 
Over stone walls gray with mosses. 
Pause by some neglected graveyard. 
For a while to muse, and ponder 
On a half -effaced inscription. 
Written wdth little skill of song-craft. 
Homely phrases, but each letter 
Full of hope and yet of heart-break, 
Full of all the tender pathos 
Of the Here and the Hereafter ; — 

Stay and read this rude inscription. 
Read this song of Hiawatha! 



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THE SONG OF HIAWATHA 



PART I 




THE PEACE-PIPE 

On the Mountains of the Prairie, 

On the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry, 

Gitche Manito, the mighty, 

He the Master of Life, descending. 

On the red crags of the quarry 

Stood erect, and called the nations. 

Called the tribes of men together. 

From his footprints flowed a river. 
Leaped into the light of morning. 
O'er the precipice plunging downward 
Gleamed like Ishkoodah, the comet. 
And the Spirit, stooping earthward, 
With his finger on the meadow 
Traced a winding pathway for it. 
Saying to it, "Run in this way!" 

From the red stone of the quarry 
With his hand he broke a fragment. 
Moulded it into a pipe-head. 
Shaped and fashioned it with figures ; * 
From the margin of the river 
Took a long reed for a pipe-stem, 
With its dark green leaves upon it; 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow, 
With the bark of the red willow ; 
19 



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TJie Song of Hiawatha 

Breathed uj)on the neighboring forest, 
Made its great boughs chafe together. 
Till in flame they burst and kindled ; 
And erect upon the mountains, 
Gitche jNIanito, the mighty, 
Smoked the calumet, the Peace-Pipe, 
As a signal to the nations. 

And the smoke rose slowl}^ slowly, 
Through the tranquil air of morning, 
First a single line of darkness. 
Then a denser, bluer vapor. 
Then a snow-white cloud unfolding,, 
Like the treetops of the forest. 
Ever rising, rising, rising. 
Till it touched the top of heaven, 
Till it broke against the heaven, 
And rolled outward all around it. 

From the Vale of Taw^asentha, 
From the Valley of Wyoming, 
From the groves of Tuscaloosa, 
From the far-off Rocky Mountai is, 
From the Northern lakes and riveis, 
All the tribes beheld the signal, 
Saw the distant smoke ascending, 
The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe. 

And the Prophets of the nations 
Said: "Behold it, the Pukwana! 
By this signal from afar off, 
Bending like a wand of willow, 
Waving like a hand that beckons, 
Gitche Manito, the mighty, 
Calls the tribes of men together, 
Calls the warriors to his council!" 
20 






The Peace-Pipe 

Down the rivers, o'er the prairies, 
Came the wai-riors of the nations. 
Came the Delawares and Mohawks, 
Came the Choctaws and Camanches, 
Came the Shoshonies and Blackfeet, 
Came the Pawnees and Omahas, 
Came the IMandans and Dacotahs, 
Came the Hurons and Ojibwaj^s, 
All the warriors drawn together 
By the signal of the Peace-Pipe, 
To the Mountains of the Prairie, 
To the great Red Pipe-stone Quarry. 

And they stood there on the meadow, 
With their weapons and their war- gear, 
Painted like the leaves of Autumn, 
Painted like the sky of morning. 
Wildly glaring at each other; 
In the faces stern defiance, 
In their hearts the feuds of ages, 
The hereditary hatred. 
The ancestral thirst of vengeance. 

Gitche jNIanito, the mighty. 
The creator of the nations, 
Looked upon them with compassion. 
With paternal love and pity; 
Looked upon their wrath and wrangling 
But as quarrels among children. 
But as feuds and fights of children ! 

Over them he stretched his right hand 
To subdue their stubborn natures. 
To allay their thirst and fever, 
By the shadow of his right hand ; 
Spake to them with voice majestic 
21 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

As the sound of far-off waters 

Falling into deep abysses, 

Warning, chiding, spake in this wise : — 

"O my children! my poor children! 
Listen to the words of wisdom. 
Listen to the words of warning. 
From the lips of the Great Spirit, 
From the Master of Life, who made you ! 

"I have given you lands to hunt in, 
I have given you streams to fish in, 
I have given you bear and bison, 
I have given you roe and reindeer, 
I have given you brant and beaver, 
Filled the marshes full of wild- fowl, 
Filled the rivers full of fishes ; 
Why then are you not contented? 
Why then will you hunt each other ? 

"I am weary of your quarrels, 
Weary of your wars and bloodshed, 
Weary of your prayers for vengeance. 
Of your wranglings and dissensions ; 
All your strength is in your union, 
All your danger is in discord; 
Therefore be at peace henceforward, 
And as brothers live together. 

"I will send a Prophet to you, 
A Deliverer of the nations, 
Who shall guide you and shall teach you, 
Who shall toil and suffer with you. 
If you listen to his counsels. 
You will multiply and prosper ; 
If his warnings pass unheeded, 
You will fade away and perish ! 






I 



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The Peace-Pijje 

"Bathe now in the stream before you, 
Wash the war-paint from your faces, 
Wash the blood-stains from your fingers. 
Bury your war-ckibs and your weapons, 
Break the red stone from this quarry. 
Mould and make it into Peace-Pipes, 
Take the reeds that grow beside you, 
Deck them with your brightest feathers. 
Smoke the calumet together, 
And as brothers live henceforward!" 

Then upon the ground the warriors 
Threw their cloaks and shirts of deer-skin. 
Threw their weapons and their war- gear, 
Leaped into the rushing river, 
Washed the war-paint from their faces. 
Clear above them flowed the water. 
Clear and limpid from the footprints 
Of the JNIaster of Life descending; 
Dark below them flowed the water. 
Soiled and stained with streaks of crimson, 
As if blood were mingled with it ! 

From the river came the warriors. 
Clean and washed from all their war- 

]3aint ; 
On the banks their clubs they buried. 
Buried all their warlike weapons. 
Gitche Manito, the mighty, 
The Great Spirit, the creator, 
Smiled upon his helpless children! 

And in silence all the warriors 
Broke the red stone of the quarry. 
Smoothed and formed it into Peace-Pipes, 
Broke the long reeds by the river, 
23 



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The Song of Hiarcatha 

Decked them with their brightest feathers. 
And departed each one homeward, 
While the Master of l^ife, ascending, 
Through the opening of cloud curtains, 
Through the doorways of the heaven, 
Vanished from before their faces, 
In the smoke that rolled around h'm. 
The Pukwana of the Peace-Pipe ! 



II 



THE FOUR WINDS 

"Honor be to JNIudjekeewis!" 
Cried the warriors, cried the old men. 
When he came in triumph homeward 

^ With the sacred Belt of Wampum, 
From the regions of the North-Wind, 
From the kingdom of Wabasso, 
From the land of the White Rabbit. 

P He had stolen the Belt of Wampum 
From the neck of JNIishe-jNIokwa, 
From the Great Bear of the mountains 
From the terror of the nations. 
As he lay asleep and cumbrous 
On the summit of the mountains. 
Like a rock with mosses on it, 
SjDotted brown and gray with mosses. 

Silently he stole upon him, 
Till the red nails of the monster 
Almost touched him, almost scared him. 
Till the hot breath of his nostrils 
Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis, 
As he drew the Belt of Wampum 



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The Four Winds 



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Over the round ears, that heard not, 

Over the small eyes, that saw not, 

Over the long nose and nostrils. 

The black muffle of the nostrils, fl 

Out of which the heavy breathing 

Warmed the hands of Mudjekeewis. 

Then he swung aloft his war-club. 
Shouted loud and long his war-cry. 
Smote the mighty Mishe-JNIokwa 
In the middle of the forehead. 
Right between the eyes he smote him. 

With the heavy blow bewildered, 
Rose the Great Bear of the mountains 
But his knees beneath him trembled. 
And he whimpered like a woman. 
As he reeled and staggered forward. 
As he sat upon his haunches ; 
And the mighty ^Mudjekeewis, 
Standing fearlessly before him. 
Taunted him in loud derision, 1^1 

Spake disdainfully in this wise : — 

"Hark you. Bear! you are a coward. 
And no Brave, as j^ou pretended; 
Else you would not cry and whimper 
Like a miserable woman ! 
Bear ! you know our tribes are hostile. 
Long have been at war together; 
Now you find that we are strongest, 
You go sneaking in the forest, 
You go hiding in the mountains ! 
Had you conquered me in battle 
Not a groan would I have uttered ; 
But you. Bear! sit here and whimper, 
25 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

And disgrace j^our tribe by crying, 
Like a wretched Shaugodaya, 
Like a cowardly old woman!" 

Then again he raised his war-club, 
Smote again the ^lishe-^Iokwa 
In the middle of his forehead, 
Broke his skull, as ice is broken 
When one goes to fish in Winter. 
Thus was slain the JNIishe-Mokwa, 
He the Great Bear of the mountains, 
He the terror of the nations. 

"Honor be to Mudjekeewis!" 
With a shout exclaimed the people, 
"Honor be to JNIudjekeewis! 
Henceforth he shall be the West- Wind. 
And hereafter and forever 
Shall he hold supreme dominion 
Over all the winds of heaven. 
Call him no more JNIudjekeewis, 
Call him Kabeyun, the West-Wind f 

Thus was JNIudjekeewis chosen 
Father of the Winds of Heaven. 
For himself he kept the West-Wind, 
Gave the others to his children; 
Unto Wabun gave the East- Wind, 
Gave the South to Shawondasee, 
And the North- Wind, wild and cruel, 
To the fierce Kabibonokka. 

Young and beautiful was Wabun; 
He it was who brought the morning. 
He it was whose silver arrows 
Chased the dark o'er hill and valley ; 
He it was whose cheeks were painted 



5 Ik 




The Four Winds 



With the brightest streaks of crimson, 
And whose voice awoke the village, 
/^ Called the deer, and called the hunter, 
r t Lonely in the sky was Wabun ; 

Though the birds sang gayly to him. 
Though the wild-flowers of the meadow 
Filled the air with odors for him. 
Though the forests and the rivers 
Sang and shouted at his coming, 
Still his heart was sad within him. 
For he was alone in heaven. 

But one morning, gazing earthward, 
While the village still was sleeping. 
And the fog lay on the river, 
Like a ghost, that goes at sunrise, 
He beheld a maiden svalking 
All alone upon a meadow, 
Cxathering water-flags and rushes 
By a river in the meadow. 

Every morning, gazing earthward. 
Still the first thing he beheld there 
Was her blue eyes looking at him. 
Two blue lakes among the rushes. 
And he loved the lonely maiden. 
Who thus waited for his coming ; 
For they both were solitary. 
She on earth and he in heaven. 

And he wooed her with caresses, 
Wooed her with his smile of sunshine, 
With his flattering words he wooed her, 
With his sighing and his singing, 
Gentlest whispers in the branches. 
Softest music, sweetest odors. 



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The Song of Ilicncatha 

Till he drew her to his bosom, 
Folded in his robes of crimson, 
Till into a star he changed her, 
Trembling still upon his bosom; 
And forever in the heavens 
They are seen together walking, 
Wabun and the Wabun-Annung, 
^ Wabun and the Star of Morning. 

But the fierce Kabibonokka 
Had his dwelling among icebergs. 
In the everlasting snow-drifts, 
In the kingdom of Wabasso, 
In the land of the White Rabbit. 
He it was whose hand in Autumn 
Painted all the trees with scarlet, 
Stained the leaves with red and yellow; 
He it was who sent the snow-flakes, 
Sifting, hissing through the forest, 
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers. 
Drove the loon and sea-gull southward, 
Drove the cormorant and curlew 
To their nests of sedge and sea-tang 
In the realms of Shawondasee. 

Once the fierce Kabibonokka 
Issued from his lodge of snow-drifts, 
From his home among the icebergs, 
And his hair, with snow besprinkled. 
Streamed behind him like a river. 
Like a black and wintry river, 
I^ ^^^B pfll As he howled and hurried southward, 
^ Over frozen lakes and moorlands. 

There among the reeds and rushes 
Found he Shingebis, the diver, 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Trailing strings of fish behind him, 
O'er the frozen fens and moorlands, 
I lingering still among the moorlands, 
Though his tribe had long departed 
To the land of Shawondasee. 

Cried the fierce Kabibonokka, 
"Who is this that dares to brave me? 
Dares to stay in my dominions, 
^A^hen the 'W'awa has departed, 
When the wild-goose has gone southward, 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Long ago departed southward? 
I will go into his wigwam, 
I will put his smouldering fire out!" 

And at night Kabibonokka 
To the lodge came wild and wailing. 
Heaped the snow in drifts about it. 
Shouted down into the smoke-flue, 
Shook the lodge-poles in his fury, 
Flapped the curtain of the door-way. 
Shingebis, the diver, feared not, 
Shingebis, the diver, cared not ; 
Four great logs had he for fire-wood. 
One for each moon of the winter. 
And for food the fishes served him. 
By his blazing fire he sat there, 
Warm and merry, eating, laughing. 
Singing, "O Kabibonokka, 
You are but my fellow-mortal!" 

Then Kabibonokka entered. 
And though Shingebis, the diver. 
Felt his presence by the coldness, 
Felt his icy breath upon him, 
30 



7^1' 



The Four Winds 



Still he did not cease his singing, 
Still he did not leave his laughing, 
Only turned the log a little, 
Only made the fire burn brighter, 
JMade the sparks fly up the smoke-flue. 

From Kabibonokka's forehead. 
From his snow-besprinkled tresses, 
Drops of sweat fell fast and heavy, 
JNIaking dints upon the ashes. 
As along the eaves of lodges. 
As from drooping boughs of hemlock. 
Drips the melting snow in spring-time, 
JNIaking hollows in the snow-drifts. 

Till at last he rose defeated. 
Could not bear the heat and laughter, 
Could not bear the merry singing, 
But rushed headlong through the door- 
way. 
Stamped upon the crusted snow-drifts, 
Stamped upon the lakes and rivers, 
Made the snow upon them harder, 
]\Iade the ice upon them thicker, 
Challenged Shingebis, the diver. 
To come forth and wrestle with him. 
To come forth and wrestle naked 
On the frozen fens and moorlands. 

Forth went Shingebis, the diver. 
Wrestled all night with the North-'W'ind, 
Wrestled naked on the moorlands 
With the fierce Kabibonokka, 
Till his panting breath grew fainter. 
Till his frozen grasp grew feebler, 
Till he reeled and staggered backward, 
31 



^ 



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yy. 



V 



The Song of Hiawatha 

And retreated, baffled, beaten, 
To the kingdom of Wabasso, 
To the land of the White Rab])it, 
Hearing still the gusty laughter, 
Hearing Shingebis, the diver. 
Singing, "O Kabibonokka, 
You are but my fellow-mortal!" 

Shawondasee, fat and lazy, — 
Had his dwelling far to southward. 
In the drowsy, dreamy sunshine, 
In the never-ending Summer. 
He it was who sent the wood-birds. 
Sent the robin, the Opechee, 
Sent the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
Sent the Shawshaw, sent the swallow. 
Sent the wild-goose, Wawa, northward, 
Sent the melons and tobacco, 
And the grapes in purple clusters. 

From his pipe the smoke ascending 
Filled the sky with haze and vapor. 
Filled the air with dreamy softness. 
Gave a twinkle to the water. 
Touched the rugged hills with smooth- 
ness. 
Brought the tender Indian Summer 
To the melancholy North-land, 
In the dreary JNIoon of Snow-shoes. 

Listless, careless Shawondasee! 
In his life he had one shadow. 
In his heart one sorrow had he. 
Once, as he was gazing northward, 
Far away upon a prairie 
He beheld a maiden standing. 





The Four Winds 



Saw a tall and slender maiden 

All alone upon a prairie ; 

Brightest green were all her garments, 

And her hair was like the sunshine. 

Day by day he gazed upon her, 
Day by day he sighed with passion. 
Day by day his heart within him 
Grew more hot with love and longing 
For the maid with yellow tresses. 
But he was too fat and lazy 
To bestir himself and woo her; 
Yes, too indolent and easy 
To pursue her and persuade her. 
So he only gazed upon her, 
Only sat and sighed with passion 
For the maiden of the prairie. 

Till one morning, looking northward, 
He beheld her yellow tresses 
Changed and covered o'er with whiteness 
Covered as with whitest snow-flakes. 
"All! my brother from the North-land, 
From the kingdom of Wabasso, 
From the land of the White Rabbit! 
You have stolen the maiden from me, 
You have laid your hand upon her, 
You have wooed and won my maiden, 
With your stories of the North-land!" 

Thus the wretched Shawondasee 
Breathed into the air his sorrow; 
And the South-Wind o'er the prairie 
Wandered warm with sighs of passion. 
With the sighs of Shawondasee, 
Till the air seemed full of snow-flakes, 
,3( 



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\y. 







The Song of Hiawatha 

Full of thistle-down the prairie, 
And the maid with hair like sunshine 
Vanished from his sight forever ; 
Never more did Shawondasee 
See the maid with yellow tresses! 

Poor, deluded Shawondasee! 
'Twas no woman that you gazed at, 
'Twas no maiden that you sighed for. 
'Twas the prairie dandelion 
That through all the dreamy Summer 
You had gazed at with such longing. 
You had sighed for with such passion. 
And had puffed away forever. 
Blown into the air with sighing. 
Ah! deluded Shawondasee! 

Thus the Four Winds were divided ; 
Thus the sons of Mudjekeewis 
Had their stations in the heavens, 
At the corners of the heavens; 
For himself the West-Wind only 
Kei^t the mighty JNludjekeewis. 



"?:^** 



III 

Hiawatha's childhood 

DoAVNWARD through the evening twilight, 
In the days that are forgotten. 
In the unremembered ages, 
From the full moon fell Nokomis, 
Fell the beautiful Nokomis, 
She a wife but not a mother. 

She was sporting with her women, 
Swinging in a swing of grape-vines, 

34 _ 



c 



f 



ri 



Hiawatha's Childhood 

When her rival, the rejected, 

Full of jealousy and hatred. 

Cut the leafy swing asunder, 

Cut in twain the twisted grape-vines, 

And Nokomis fell affrighted 

Downward through the evening twilight 

On the Muskoday, the meadow. 

On the prairie full of blossoms. <^l 

"See! a star falls!" said the people; 

"From the sky a star is falling!" 

There among the ferns and mosses, 
There among the prairie lilies, 
On the Muskoday, the meadow. 
In the moonlight and the starlight. 
Fair Nokomis bore a daughter. 
And she called her name Wenonah, 
As the first-born of her daughters. 
And the daughter of Nokomis 
Grew up like the prairie lilies, 
Grew a tall and slender maiden, 
With the beauty of the moonlight. 
With the beauty of the starlight. 

And Nokomis warned her often, 
Saying oft, and oft repeating, 
"Oh, beware of JNIudjekeewis, 
Of the West- Wind, JNIudjekeewis; 
Listen not to what he tells you ; 
Lie not down upon the meadow. 
Stoop not down among the lilies, 
Lest the West- Wind come and harm 
you!" 

But she heeded not the warning, 
Heeded not those words of wisdom, 
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The Song of Hiatcatha 

And the West-AVind came at evening, 
Walking lightly o'er the prairie, 
Whispering to the leaves and blossoms, 
Bending low the flowers and grasses, 
Found the beautiful AVenonah, 
Lying there among the lilies, 
'/hy Wooed her with his words of sweetness, 
[^ Wooed her with his soft caresses, 
Till she bore a son in sorrow, 
Bore a son of love and sorrow. 

Thus Avas born my Hiawatha, 
Thus was born the child of wonder; 
But the daughter of Nokomis, 
Hiawatha's gentle mother. 
In her anguish died deserted 
By the West- Wind, false and faithless, 
By the heartless JNIudjekeewis. 

For her daughter, long and loudly 
Wailed and wept the sad Nokomis; 
'0 "Oh that I were dead!" she murmured, 
"Oh that I were dead, as thou art! 
No more work, and no more weeping, 
Wahonowin! Wahonowin!" 

By the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
By the shining Big- Sea- Water, 
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 
Daughter of the jNIoon, Nokomis. 
Dark behind it rose the forest, 
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees. 
Rose the firs with cones upon them; 
Bright before it beat the water, 
Beat the clear and sunny water. 
Beat the shining Big- Sea- Water. 
36 



^- 



c=^ 



■^^ 



y^ ■ - ^^^ 



DJEKEEWIS 
AND WENONAH 




\v. 



A 



The Song of Hiaijcatha 

There the wrinkled old Nokomis 
Nursed the little Hiawatha, 
Rocked him in his linden cradle, 
Bedded soft in moss and rushes. 
Safely bound with reindeer sinews; 
Stilled his fretful wail by saying, 
"Hush! the Naked Bear will hear thee!" 
Lulled him into slumber, singing, 
"Ewa-yea! my little owlet! 
Who is this, that lights the wigwam? 
With his great eyes lights the wigwam? 
Ewa-yea! my little owlet!" 

Many things Nokomis taught him 
Of the stars that shine in heaven; 
Showed him Ishkoodah, the comet, 
Ishkoodah, with fiery tresses ; 
Showed the Death-Dance of the spirits, 
Warriors with their plumes and war-clubs, 
Flaring far away to northward 
In the frosty nights of Winter ; 
Showed the broad white road in heaven. 
Pathway of the ghosts, the shadows, 
Running straight across the heavens. 
Crowded with the ghosts, the shadows. 

At the door on summer evenings 
Sat the little Hiawatha; 
Heard the whispering of the pine-trees. 
Heard the lapping of the waters. 
Sounds of music, words of wonder ; 
"Minne-wawa!" said the pine-trees. 
"Mudway-aushka!" said the water. 

Saw the fire-fly, Wah-wah-taysee, 
Flitting through the dusk of evening, 
38 




Hiawatha s Childhood 



With the twinkle of its candle 
Lighting up the brakes and bushes, 
And he sang the song of children, 
Sang the song Nokomis taught him: 
" Wall- wah-tay see, little fire-fly, 
Little, flitting, white-fire insect, 
Little, dancing, white-fire creature, 
Light me with your little candle. 
Ere upon my bed I lay me, 
Ere in sleep I close my eyelids!" 

Saw the moon rise from the water 
Rippling, rounding from the water. 
Saw the flecks and shadows on it. 
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" 
And the good Nokomis answered : 
"Once a warrior, very angry, 
Seized his grandmother, and threw her 
Up into the sky at midnight ; 
Right against the moon he threw her ; 
'Tis her body that you see there." 

Saw the rainbow in the heaven, 
In the eastern sky, the rainbow. 
Whispered, "What is that, Nokomis?" 
And the good Nokomis answered: 
" 'Tis the heaven of flowers you see there- 
All the wild-flowers of the forest, 
All the lilies of the prairie. 
When on earth they fade and perish. 
Blossom in that heaven above us." 

When he heard the owls at midnight, 
Hooting, laughing in the forest, 
"What is that?" he cried in terror, 
"What is that," he said, "Nokomis?" 
3i 



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3. 







r^i^^Si^. 



The Song of Hiawatha 

And the good Nokomis answered: 
"That is but the owl and owlet, 
Talking in their native language, 
Talking, scolding at each otiier." 

Then the little Hiawatha 
Learned of every bird its language, 
I>-earned their names and all their secrets. 
How they built their nests in Summer, 
Where they hid themselves in Winter, 
Talked with them whene'er he met them. 
Called them "Hiawatha's Chickens." 

Of all beasts he learned the language. 
Learned their names and all their secrets. 
How the beavers built their lodges. 
Where the squirrels hid their acorns, 
How the reindeer ran so swiftly, 
Why the rabbit was so timid, 
Talked with them whene'er he met them. 
Called them "Hiawatha's Brothers." 

Then lagoo, the great boaster. 
He the marvelous story-teller, 
He the traveller and the talker, 
He the friend of old Nokomis, 
Made a bow for Hiawatha; 
From a branch of ash he made it, 
From an oak-bough made the arrows, 
Tipped with flint, and winged with feath- 
ers. 
And the cord he made of deer-skin. 

Then he said to Hiawatha : 
"Go, my son, into the forest, 
Where the red deer herd together. 
Kill for us a famous roebuck. 



%: 



X 

7^' 



Hiawatha s Childhood 



f 



Kill for us a deer with antlers!" 

Forth into the forest straightway 
All alone walked Hiawatha 
Proudly, w ith his bow and arrows ; 
And the birds sang round him, o'er him, 
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
"Do not shoot us, Hiawatha!" 

Up the oak-tree, close beside him, 
S23rang the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
In and out among the branches, 
Coughed and chattered from the oak-tree. 
Laughed, and said between his laughing, 
"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" 

And the rabbit from his pathway 
Leaped aside, and at a distance 
Sat erect upon his haunches. 
Half in fear and half in frolic. 
Saying to the little hunter, 
"Do not shoot me, Hiawatha!" 

But he heeded not, nor heard them, 
For his thoughts w^ere with the red deer ; 
On their tracks his eyes were fastened, 
Leading downward to the river^ 
To .the ford across the river. 
And as one in slumber walked he. 

Hidden in the alder-bushes, 
There he waited till the deer came, 
Till he saw two antlers lifted, 
Saw two eyes look from the thicket. 
Saw two nostrils point to windward. 
And a deer came down the pathway, 
41 



1^, 







The Song of Hiaxjcatha 

Flecked with leafy light and shadow. 
And his heart within him fluttered, 
Trembled like the leaves above him, 
Like the birch-leaf palpitated, 
As the deer came down the pathway. 

Then, upon one knee uprising, 
Hiawatha aimed an arrow; 
Scarce a twig moved with his motion, 
Scarce a leaf was stirred or rustled, 
But the wary roebuck started. 
Stamped with all his hoofs together, 
Listened with one foot uplifted, 
Leaped as if to meet the arrow; 
Ah! the singing, fatal arrow^; 
Like a wasj) it buzzed and stung him ! 

Dead he lay there in the forest, 
By the ford across the river; 
Beat his timid heart no longer, 
But the heart of Hiawatha 
Throbbed and shouted and exulted. 
As he bore the red deer homeward, 
And lagoo and Nokomis 
Hailed his coming with applauses. 

From the red deer's hide Nokomis 
Made a cloak for Hiawatha, 
From the red deer's flesh Nokomis 
Made a banquet in his honor. 
All the village came and feasted, 
All the guests praised Hiawatha, 
Called him Strong-Heart, Soan-ge-taha! 
Called him Loon-Heart, Mahn-go-taysee ! 



7^' 



PS 




Hiawatha and Mudjekeewis 



IV 



HIAAVATHA AND MUDJEKEEWIS 

Out of childhood into manhood 
Now had grown my Hiawatha, 
Skilled in all the craft of hunters, 
Learned in all the lore of old men, 
In all youthful sports and pastimes. 
In all manly arts and labors. 

Swift of foot was Hiawatha; 
He could shoot an arrow from him. 
And run forward with such fleetness, 
That the arrow fell behind him ! 
Strong of arm was Hiawatha; 
He could shoot ten arrows upward. 
Shoot them with such strength and swift- 
ness 
That the tenth had left the bow-string 
Ere the first to earth had fallen ! 

He had mittens, JNIinjekahwun, 
Magic mittens made of deer-skin ; 
When upon his hands he wore them. 
He could smite the rocks asunder. 
He could grind them into powder. 
He had moccasins enchanted, 
Magic moccasins of deer-skin ; 
When he bound them round his ankles. 
When upon his feet he tied them. 
At each stride a mile he measured ! 

Much he questioned old Nokomis 
Of his father Mudjekeewis; 
Learned from her the fatal secret 
Of the beauty of his mother. 



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The Song of Hiawatha _, 

Of the falsehood of his father ; 
And his heart was hot within him, 
Like a hving coal his heart was. 

Then he said to old Nokomis, 
"I will go to Mudjekeewis, 
See how fares it with my father, 
At the doorways of the West-AVind, 
At the portals of the Smiset!" 

From his lodge went Hiawatha, 
Dressed for travel, armed for hunting, 
Dressed in deer-skin shirt and leggings, 
Richly wrought with quills and wampum. 
On his head his eagle- feathers. 
Round his waist his belt of wampum. 
In his hand his bow of ash-wood, 
Strung with sinews of the reindeer; 
In his quiver oaken arrows. 
Tipped with jasper, winged with feathers; 
With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 
With his moccasins enchanted. 

Warning said the old Nokomis, 
"Go not forth, O Hiawatha! 
To the kingdom of the West- Wind, 
To the realms of Mudjekeewis, 
Lest he harm you with his magic, 
Lest he kill you with his cvmning!" 

But the fearless Hiawatha 
Heeded not her woman's warning; 
Forth he strode into the forest. 
At each stride a mile he measured ; 
Lurid seemed the sky above him. 
Lurid seemed the earth beneath him. 
Hot and close the air around him, 
44 



1. 



c 




Hiawatha and 3Iudjekeewis 

Filled with smoke and fiery vapors, 
As of burning woods and prairies. 
For his heart was hot within him, 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

So he journeyed westward, westward, 
Left the fleetest deer behind him, 
Left the antelope and bison ; 
Crossed the rushing Esconaba, 
Crossed the mighty JNIississippi, 
Passed the JNIountains of the Prairie, 
Passed the land of Crows and Foxes, 
Passed the dwellings of the Blackfeet, 
Came unto the Rocky Mountains, 
To the Kingdom of the West- Wind, 
Where upon the gusty summits 
Sat the ancient Mudjekeewis, 
Ruler of the winds of heaven. 

Filled with awe was Hiawatha 
At the aspect of his father. 
On the air about him wildly 
Tossed and streamed his cloudy tresses, 
Gleamed like drifting snow his tresses, 
Glared like Ishkoodah, the comet. 
Like the star with fiery tresses. 

Filled with joy was Mudjekeewis 
When he looked on Hiawatha, 
Saw his youth rise up before him 
In the face of Hiawatha, 
Saw the beauty of Wenonah 
From the grave rise up before him. 

"Welcome!" said he, "Hiawatha, 
To the kingdom of the West- Wind! 
Long have I been waiting for you ! 
45 




v,^ 



t 



The Song of Iliaicatha 

Youth is lovely, age is lonely, 
Youth is fiery, age is frosty ; 
You bring back the days dej)arted, 
You bring back my youth of passion. 
And the beautiful Wenonah!" 

Many days they talked together. 
Questioned, listened, waited, answered; 
Much the mighty Mudjekeewis 
Boasted of his ancient prowess. 
Of his perilous adventures, 
His indomitable courage, 
His invulnerable body. 

Patiently sat Hiawatha, 
Listening to his father's boasting; 
With a smile he sat and listened. 
Uttered neither threat nor menace. 
Neither word nor look betrayed him, 
But his heart was hot within him, 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

Then he said, *'0 Mudjekeewis, 
Is there nothing that can harm you ? 
Nothing that you are afraid of?" 
And the mighty Mudjekeewis, 
Grand and gracious in his boasting, 
Answered, saying, "There is nothing, 
Nothing but the black rock yonder, 
Nothing but the fatal Wawbeek!" 

And he looked at Hiawatha 
With a wise look and benignant, 
With a countenance paternal, 
Looked with pride upon the beauty 
Of his tall and graceful figure, 
Saying, "O my Hiawatha! 
46 



•7U 



Hiawatha and Mudjekeewis 

Is there anything can harm you ? 
Anythmg you are afraid of?" 

But the wary Hiawatha 
Paused awhile, as if uncertain, 
Held his peace, as if resolving. 
And then answered, "There is nothing, 
Nothing but the bulrush yonder, 
Nothing but the great Apukwa!" 

And as ^ludjekeewis, rising, 
Stretched his hand to pluck the bulrush, 
Hiawatha cried in terror. 
Cried in well-dissembled terror, 
"Kago! kago! do not touch it!" 
"Ah, kaween!" said JNIudjekeewis, 
"No indeed, I will not touch it!" 

Then they talked of other matters ; 
First of Hiawatha's brothers. 
First of Wabun, of the East-Wind 
Of the South- Wind, Shawondasee, 
Of the North, Kabibonokka; 
Then of Hiawatha's mother. 
Of the beautiful Wenonah, 
Of her birth upon the meadow. 
Of her death, as old Nokomis 
Had remembered and related. 

And he cried, "O Mudjekeewis, 
It was you who killed Wenonah, 
Took her young life and her beauty, 
Broke the Lily of the Prairie, 
Trampled it beneath your footsteps; 
You confess it! you confess it!" 
And the mighty Mudjekeewis 
Tossed upon the wind his tresses, 
47 



!^«S:? 



■i/ 



K 



/J 



t 



i:i« 



The Song of Hiawatha 

Bowed his hoary head in anguish^,. 
With a silent nod assented. 

Then up started Hiawatha, 
And with threatening look and gesture 
Laid his hand upon the black rock, 
On the fatal Wawbeek laid it, 
With his mittens, JNIinjekahwun, 
Rent the jutting crag asunder. 
Smote and crushed it into fragments. 
Hurled them madly at his father, 
The remorseful Mudjekeewis, 
For his heart was hot within him. 
Like a living coal his heart was. 

But the ruler of the West-Wind 
Blew the fragments backward from him. 
With the breathing of his nostrils. 
With the tempest of his anger, 
Blew them back at his assailant 
Seized the bulrush, the Apukwa, 
Dragged it with its roots and fibres 
From the margin of the meadow, 
From its ooze, the giant bulrush ; 
Long and loud laughed Hiawatha! 

Then began the deadly conflict. 
Hand to hand among the mountains ; 
From his eyry screamed the eagle, 
The Keneu, the great war-eagle, 
Sat upon the crags around them. 
Wheeling flapped his wings above them. 

Like a tall tree in the tempest 
Bent and lashed the giant bulrush; 
And in masses huge and heavy 
Crashing fell the fatal Wawbeek; 
48 



1. 



^ 




Hiawatha and Mudjekeeicis 

Till the earth shook with the tumult 
And confusion of the battle, 
And the air was full of shoutings, 
And the thunder of the mountains. 
Starting, answered, "Baim-wawa!" 

Back retreated JNIudjekeewis, 
Rushing westward o'er the mountains, 
Stumbling westward down the mountain 
Three whole days retreated fighting, 
Still pursued by Hiawatha 
To the doorways of the West- Wind, 
To the portals of the Sunset, 
To the earth's remotest border, 
Where into the empty spaces 
Sinks the sun, as a flamingo 
Drops into her nest at nightfall. 
In the melancholy marshes. 

"Hold!" at length cried ^ludjekeewis, 
"Hold, my son, my Hiawatha! 
'T is impossible to kill me. 
For you cannot kill the immortal. 
I have put you to this trial. 
But to know and prove your courage ; 
Now receive the prize of valor! 

"Go back to your home and people. 
Live among them, toil among them, 
Cleanse the earth from all that harms it. 
Clear the fishing-grounds and rivers, 
Slay all monsters and magicians. 
All the Wendigoes, the giants. 
All the serpents, the Kenabeeks, 
As I slew the ]Mishe-]Mokwa, 
Slew the Great Bear of the mountains. 
19 




^' 



The Song of Hiawatha 

"And at last when Death draws near 
you, 
When the awful eyes of Pauguk 
Glare upon you in the darkness, 
I will share my kingdom with you. 
Ruler shall you he thenceforward 
Of the Northwest-AVind, Keewaydin, 
Of the home- wind, the Keewaydin." 

Thus was fought that famous hattle 
In the dreadful days of Shah-shah, 
In the days long since departed. 
In the kingdom of the West-Wind. 
Still the hunter sees its traces 
Scattered far o'er hill and valley ; 
Sees the giant bulrush growing 
By the ponds and water-courses. 
Sees the masses of the Wawbeek 
Lying still in every valley. 

Homeward now wxnt Hiawatha; 
Pleasant was the landscape round him. 
Pleasant was the air above him. 
For the bitterness of anger 
Had departed wholly from him. 
From his brain the thought of vengeance, 
From his heart the burning fever. 

Only once his pace he slackened. 
Only once he paused or halted, 
Paused to purchase heads of arrows 
Of the ancient Arrow-maker, 
In the land of the Dacotahs, 
AVhere the Falls of INIinnehaha 
Flash and gleam among the oak-trees. 
Laugh and leap into the valley. 
50 



'^ V.J 





Hiawatha and Mudjekeetcis 

There the ancient Arrow-maker 
JNlade his arrow-heads of sandstone, 
Arrow-heads of chalcedony, 
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper. 
Smoothed and sharpened at the edges, 
Hard and polished, keen and costly. 

With him dwelt his dark-eyed daugh- 
ter, 
Wayward as the ^linnehalia. 
With her moods of shade and sunshine. 
Eyes that smiled and frowned alternate. 
Feet as rapid as the river. 
Tresses flowing like the water. 
And as musical a laughter ; 
And he named her from the river. 
From the water- fall he named her, 
JNIinnehaha, Laughing Water. 

Was it then for heads of arrows. 
Arrow-heads of chalcedony, 
Arrow-heads of flint and jasper, 
That my Hiawatha halted 
In the land of the Dacotahs? 

Was it not to see the maiden. 
See the face of Laughing Water 
Peeping from behind the curtain. 
Hear the rustling of her garments 
From behind the waving curtain. 
As one sees the ^Minnehaha 
Gleaming, glancing through the branches, 
As one hears the Laughing Water 
From behind its screen of branches? 

Who shall say what thoughts and vi- 
sions 

51 



\^ 



'V 



1^, 



■^ 



:^^ 



if 



f<i:i^iLy ~?f _j'^ 



The Song of Hiatcatha 

Fill the fiery brains of young men? 
Who shall say what dreams of beauty 
Filled the heart of Hiawatha? 
i?\ \) All he told to old Nokomis, 

A\^hen he reached the lodge at sunset, 
Was the meeting with his father, 
Was his fight with JNludjekeewis; 
Not a word he said of arrows, 
Not a word of Laughhig Water! 



HIxVWATHA S FASTING 

You shall hear how Hiawatha 
Prayed and fasted in the forest, 
Not for greater skill in hunting. 
Not for greater craft in fishing. 
Not for triumphs in the battle, 
And renown among the warriors. 
But for profit of the people. 
For advantage of the nations. 

First he built a lodge for fasting. 
Built a wigwam in the forest, 
By the shining Big-Sea-A¥ater, 
In the blithe and pleasant Spring-time, 
In the ]\Ioon of Leaves he built it. 
And, with dreams and visions many, 
Seven whole days and nights he fasted. 

On the first day of his fasting 
Through the leafy woods he wandered ; 
Saw the deer start from the thicket, 
Saw the rabbit in his burrow, 
Heard the pheasant, Bena, drumming, 
52 



c=S 



Hiawatha s Fasting 

Heard the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Rattling in his hoard of acorns, 
^ Saw the pigeon, the Omeme, 
~ ^ Building nests among the pine-trees, 
And in flocks the wild goose, Wawa, 
Flying to the fen-lands northward. 
Whirring, wailing far above him. 
"Master of Life!" he cried, desponding, 
"Must our lives depend on these things?" 

On the next day of his fasting 
By the river's brink he wandered, 
Through the JNIuskoday, the meadow, 
Saw the wild rice, Mahnomonee, 
Saw the Blueberry, Meenahga, 
And the strawberry, Odahmin, 
And the gooseberry, Shahbomin, 
And the grape-vine, the Bemahgut, 
Trailing oe'r the alder-branches, 
Filling all the air with fragrance ! 
"Master of Life!" he cried, desponding, 
"Must our lives depend on these things?" 

On the third day of his fasting 
By the lake he sat and pondered. 
By the still, transparent water; 
Saw the sturgeon, Nahma, leaping. 
Scattering drops like beads of wampum, 
Saw the yellow perch, the Sahwa, 
Like a sunbeam in the water. 
Saw the pike, the Maskenozha, 
And the herring, Okahahwis, 
And the Shawgashee, the craw-fish! 
"Master of Life!" he cried, desponding, 
"Must our lives depend on these things?" 
53 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Oil the fourth day of his fasting 
In his lodge he lay exhausted ; 
From his couch of leaves and branches 
Gazing with half-open eyelids, 
Full of shadowy dreams and visions, 
On the dizzy, swimming landscape, 
On the gleaming of the water. 
On the splendor of the sunset. 

And he saw a youth approaching, 
Dressed in garments green and yellow. 
Coming through the purple twilight, 
Through the splendor of the sunset ; 
Plumes of green bent o'er his forehead, 
And his hair was soft and golden. 

Standing at the open doorway. 
Long he looked at Hiawatha, 
Looked with pity and compassion 
On his wasted form and features, 
And, in accents like the sighing 
Of the South -Wind in the tree-tops, 
Said he, "O my Hiawatha! 
All your prayers are heard in heaven, 
For you pray not like the others ; 
Not for greater skill in hunting. 
Not for greater craft in fishing, 
Not for triumph in the battle. 
Nor renown among the warriors. 
But for profit of the people, 
For advantage of the nations. 

"From the JNIaster of Life descending, 
I, the friend of man, JNIondamhi, 
Come to warn you and instruct you. 
How by struggle and by labor 



7^" 






=^ Hiawatha s Fasting 

You shall gain what you have prayed for 
Kise up from your bed of branches, 
Rise, O youth, and wrestle with me!" 

Faint with famine, Hiawatha 
Started from his bed of branches. 
From the twilight of his wigwam 
Forth into the flush of sunset 
Came, and wrestled with JNIondamin ; 
At his touch he felt new courage 
Throbbing in his brain and bosom. 
Felt new life and hope and vigor 
Run through every nerve and fibre. 

So they wrestled there together 
In the glory of the sunset, 
And the more they strove and struggled, 
Stronger still grew Hiawatha, 
Till the darkness fell around them. 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From her nest among the pine-trees, 
Gave a cry of lamentation. 
Gave a scream of pain and famine. 

" 'Tis enough!" then said Mondamin 
Smiling upon Hiawatha, 
"But to-morrow, when the sun sets, 
I will come again to trj^ you." 
And he vanished, and was seen not; 
Whether sinking as the rain sinks, 
Whether rising as the mists rise, 
Hiawatha saw not, knew not. 
Only saw that he had vanished. 
Leaving him alone and fainting, 
With the misty lake below him, 
And the reeling stars above him. 




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The Song of Hiawatha 

On the morrow and the next day, 
When the sun through heaven descending, 
Like a red and burning cinder 
From the hearth of the Great Spirit, 
Fell into the western waters. 
Came JVlondamin for the trial. 
For the strife with Hiawatha; 
Came as silent as the dew comes. 
From the empty air appearing, 
Into empty air returning, 
Taking shape when earth it touches 
But invisible to all men 
In its coming and its going. 

Thrice they wrestled there together 
In the glory of the sunset. 
Till the darkness fell around them. 
Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From her nest among the pine-trees. 
Uttered her loud cry of famine, 
And Mondamin paused to listen. 

Tall and beautiful he stood there 
In his garments green and yellow; 
To and fro his plumes above him 
Waved and nodded with his breathing. 
And the sweat of the encounter 
Stood like drops of dew upon him. 

And he cried, "O Fliawatha! 
Bravely have you wrestled with me. 
Thrice have wrestled stoutly with me, 
And the JNIaster of Life, who sees us. 
He will give to you the triumph!" 

Then he smiled and said: "To-morrow 
Is the last day of your conflict, 
56 



L 



7^^ 



Hiawatha s Fasting 

Is the last day of your fasting. 
You will conquer and o'ercome me; 
t_ Make a bed for me to lie in, 
> < Where the rain may fall upon me, 

Where the sun may come and warm me ; 
Strip these garments, green and yellow, %(\ 
Strip this nodding plumage from me, \ \ I 

Lay me in the earth and make it 
Soft and loose and light above me. 

"Let no hand disturb my slumber, 
Let no weed nor worm molest me, 
Let not Kahgahgee, the raven. 
Come to haunt me and molest me, 
Only come yourself to watch me. 
Till I wake, and start, and quicken, 
Till I leap into the sunshine." 

And thus saying, he departed ; 
Peacefully slept Hiawatha, 
But he heard the Wawonaissa, 
Heard the whippoorwill complaining, \( 

Perched upon his lonely wigwam ; 
Heard the rushing Sebowisha, 
Heard the rivulet rippling near him. 
Talking to the darksome forest ; 
Heard the sighing of the branches, 
As they lifted and subsided 
At the passing of the night -wind. 
Heard them, as one hears in slumber 
Far-off murmurs, dreamy whispers : 
Peacefully slept Hiawatha. fc^ ^^^f ^ 

On the morrow came Nokomis, ^ 

On the seventh day of his fasting, 
Came with food for Hiawatha, 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Came imj)loring and bewailing, 
Lest his hunger should o'ercome him, 
Lest his fasting should be fatal. 

But he tasted not, and touched not, 
Only said to her, "Nokomis, 
Wait until the sun is setting, 
Till the darkness falls around us, 
Till the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Crying from the desolate marshes, 
Tells us that the day is ended." 

Homeward weeping went Nokomis, 
Sorrowing for her Hiawatha, 
Fearing lest his strength should fail him. 
Lest his fasting should be fatal. 
He meanwhile sat weary waiting 
For the coming of JVIondamin, 
Till the shadows, pointing eastward. 
Lengthened over field and forest. 
Till the sun dropped from the heaven. 
Floating on the w^aters westward. 
As a red leaf in the Autumn 
Falls and floats upon the w^ater. 
Falls and sinks into its bosom. 

And behold! the young JNIondamin, 
With his soft and shining tresses, 
With his garments green and yellow. 
With his long and glossy plumage. 
Stood and beckoned at the doorway. 
And as one in slumber w^alking. 
Pale and haggard, but undaunted, 
From the wigwam Hiaw atha 
Came and wrestled wdth ^londamin. 

Round about him spun the landscape. 






C=3 






:^ Hiawatha s Fasting 

Sky and forest reeled together, 
And his strong heart leaped within him, 
As the sturgeon leaps and struggles 
In a net to break its meshes. 
Like a ring of fire around him 
Blazed and flared the red horizon. 
And a hundred suns seemed looking 
At the combat of the wrestlers. 

Suddenly upon the greensward 
All alone stood Hiawatha, 
Panting with his wild exertion. 
Palpitating with the struggle; 
And before him, breathless, lifeless. 
Lay the youth, with hair dishevelled. 
Plumage torn, and garments tattered, 
Dead he lay there in the sunset. 

And victorious Hiaw^atha 
Made the grave as he commanded. 
Stripped the garments from JNIondamin, 
Stripped his tattered plumage from him. 
Laid him in the earth, and made it 
Soft and loose and light above him; 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From the melancholy moorlands. 
Gave a cry of lamentation. 
Gave a cry of pain and anguish ! 

Homeward then went Hiawatha 
To the lodge of old Nokomis, 
And the seven days of his fasting 
Were accomplished and completed. 
But the place was not forgotten 
Where he wrestled with JNIondamin ; 
Nor forgotten nor neglected 
59 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Was the grave where lay ^londamin, 
Sleeping in the rain and sunshine, 
Where his scattered plumes and garments 
Faded in the rain and sunshine. 

Day hy day did Hiawatha 
Go to wait and watch beside it ; 
Kept the dark mould soft above it, 
Kept it clean from weeds and insects, 
Drove away, with scoffs and shoutings, 
Kahgahgee, the king of ravens. 

Till at length a small green feather 
From the earth shot slowly uj)ward, 
Then another and another, 
And before the Summer ended 
Stood the maize in all its beauty, 
With its shining robes about it. 
And its long, soft, yellow tresses; 
And in rapture Hiawatha 
Cried aloud, "It is Mondamin! 
Yes, the friend of man, Mondamin !" 

Then he called to old Xokomis 
And lagoo, the great boaster. 
Showed them where the maize was grow- 
ing 
Told them of his wondrous vision, 
Of his wrestling and his triumph. 
Of tliis new gift to the nations. 
Which should be their food forever. 

And still later, when the Autumn 
Changed the long, green leaves to yellow, 
And the soft and juicy kernels 
Grew like wampum hard and yellow. 
Then the ripened ears he gathered, 

60 





■i/ 



The Song of Hiawatha 

Stripped tlie withered husks from 

them, 
As he once had stripped the wrestler, 
Gave the first Feast of ^loudamin. 
And made known unto the people 
This new gift of the Great Spirit. 



off 



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VI 



HIAWATHA S FRIENDS 

Two good friends had Hiawatha, 

Singled out from all the others, 

Bound to him in closest union, 

And to whom he gave the right hand 

Of his heart, in joy and sorrow; 

Chibiabos, the musician, 

And the very strong man, Kwasind. 

Straight between them ran the path- 
way. 
Never grew the grass upon it ; 
Singing birds, that utter falsehoods, 
Story-tellers, mischief-makers. 
Found no eager ear to listen. 
Could not breed ill-will between them, 
For they kept each other's counsel. 
Spake with naked hearts together, 
Pondering much and much contriving 
How the tribes of men might prosper. 

Most beloved by Hiawatha 
Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
He the best of all musicians. 
He the sweetest of all singers. 
Beautiful and childlike was he, 
62 





Hiawatha s Friends 



Brave as man is, soft as woman, 
Pliant as a wand of willow. 
Stately as a deer with antlers. 

When he sang, the village listened ; 
All the warriors gathered round him, 
All the women came to hear him; 
Now he stirred their souls to passion. 
Now he melted them to pity. 

From the hollow reeds he fashioned 
Flutes so musical and mellow, 
That the brook, the Sebowisha, 
Ceased to murmur in the woodland. 
That the wood-birds ceased from singing, 
And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Ceased his chatter in the oak-tree, 
And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
Sat upright to look and listen. 

Yes, the brook, the Sebowisha, 
Pausing, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach my weaves to flow in music, 
Softly as your w^ords in singing!" 

Yes, the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
Envious, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as wild and wayward, 
Teach me songs as full of frenzy!" 

Yes, the robin, the Opechee, 
Joyous, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as sweet and tender, 
Teach me songs as full of gladness!" 

And the whippoorwill, Wawonaissa, 
Sobbing, said, "O Chibiabos, 
Teach me tones as melancholy, 
Teach me songs as full of sadness!" 
63 



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The Son^ of Illatcatha 

All the many sounds of nature 
Borrowed sweetness from his singing; 
All the hearts of men were softened 
By the pathos of his music ; 
For he sang of peace and freedom, 
Sang of beauty, love, and longing ; 
Sang of death, and life undying 
In the Islands of the Blessed, 
In the kingdom of Ponemah, 
In the land of the Hereafter. 

Very dear to Pliawatha 
Was the gentle Chibiabos, 
He the best of all musicians. 
He the sweetest of all singers; 
For his gentleness he loved him. 
And the magic of his singing. 

Dear, too, unto Hiawatha 
Was the very strong man, Kwasind, 
He the strongest of all mortals. 
He the mightiest among many; 
For his very strength he loved him, 
For his strength allied to goodness. 

Idle in his youth was Kwasind, 
Very listless, dull and dreamy. 
Never played with other children. 
Never fished and never hunted, 
Not like other children was he ; 
But they saw that much he fasted, 
Much his JNIanito entreated, 
Much besought his Guardian Spirit. 

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his mother, 
"In my work you never help me! 
In the Summer you are roaming 
64 






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The Song of Hiawatha 

Idly in the fields and forests; 
In the Winter you are cowering 
O'er the firebrands in the wigwam 1 
In the coldest days of Winter 
I must break the ice for fishing; 
With my nets you never help me! 
At the door my nets are hanging, 
Dripping, freezing with the water; 
Go and wring them, Yenadizze ! 
Go and dry them in the sunshine!" 

Slowly from the ashes, Kwasind 
Rose, but made no angry answer; 
From the lodge went forth in silence, 
Took the nets that hung together. 
Dripping, freezing at the doorway; 
Like a wisp of straw he wrung them, 
Like a wisp of straw he broke them. 
Could not wring them without breaking. 
Such the strength was in his fingers. 

"Lazy Kwasind!" said his father, 
"In the hunt you never help me; 
Every bow you touch is broken, 
Snapped asunder every arrow; 
Yet come with me to the forest, 
You shall bring the hunting homeward." 

Down a narrow pass they wandered. 
Where a brooklet led them onward, 
Where the trail of deer and bison 
Marked the soft mud on the margin. 
Till they found all further passage 
Shut against them, barred securely 
By the trunks of trees uprooted. 
Lying lengthwise, lying crosswise, 

m 





Hiawatha s Friends 



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And forbidding further passage. 

"We must go back," said the old man, 
"O'er these logs we cannot clamber; 
Not a woodchuck could get through them, fi 
Not a squirrel clamber o'er them!" 
And straightway his pipe he lighted, 
And sat down to smoke and ponder. 
But before his pipe was finished, 
Lo! the path was cleared before him: 
All the trunks had Kwasind lifted, 
To the right hand, to the left hand. 
Shot the pine-trees swift as arrows. 
Hurled the cedars light as lances. 

"Lazy Kwasind!" said the young men. 
As they sported in the meadow ; 
"Why standing idly looking at us. 
Leaning on the rock behind you? 
Come and wrestle with the others, 
Let us pitch the quoit together!" 

Lazy Kwasind made no answer. 
To their challenge made no ansvv'er. 
Only rose, and, slowly turning, 
Seized the huge rock in his fingers. 
Tore it from its deep foundation, 
Poised it in the air a moment. 
Pitched it sheer into the river. 
Sheer into the swift Pauwating, 
Where it still is seen in Summer. 

Once as down that foaming river, 
Down the rapids of Pauwating, 
Kwasind sailed with his companions. 
In the stream he saw a beaver, 
Saw Ahmeek, the King of Beavers, 
67 



The Song of Hiawatha ^. 

Struggling with the rushing currents, 
Rising, sinking in the water. 

Without speaking, without pausing, 
Kwasind leaped into the river. 
Plunged beneath the bubbling surface, 
Through the whirlpools chased the beaver, 
Followed him among the islands, 

^. Stayed so long beneath the w^ater. 
That his terrified companions 
Cried, "Alas! good-by to Kwasind! 
We shall never more see Kwasind!" 
But he reappeared triumphant. 
And upon his shining shoulders, 
Brought the beaver, dead and dripping, 
Brought the King of all the Beavers. 
And these two, as I have told you, 
Were the friends of Hiawatha, 
Chibiabos, the musician, 
And the very strong man, Kwasind, 

0' Long they lived in peace together. 
Spake with naked hearts together. 
Pondering much and much contriving 
How the tribes of men might prosper. 



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1 



VII 



HIAWATHA S SAILING 



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"Ght. me of your bark, O Birch-Tree! 
Of your yellow bark, O Birch- Tree! 
Growing by the rushing river. 
Tall and stately in the valley! 
I a light canoe will build me. 
Build a ssvift Cheemaun for sailing, 
68 



» Hiawatha s Sailing 

That shall float upon the river, 
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 
Like a yellow water-lily! 

"Lay aside your cloak, O Birch-Tree! 
Lay aside your white-skin wrapper, 
For the Summer-time is coming, 
And the sun is warm in heaven. 
And you need no white-skin wrapper!" 

Thus aloud cried Hiawatha 
In the solitary forest, 
By the rushing Taquamenaw, 
When the birds were singing gayly. 
In the JNIoon of Leaves were singing. 
And the sun, from sleep awaking. 
Started up and said, "Behold me! 
Gheezis, the great Sun, behold me!" 

And the tree with all its branches 
Rustled in the breeze of morning. 
Saying, with a sigh of patience, 
"Take my cloak, O Hiawatha!" 

With his knife the tree he girdled, 
Just beneath its lowest branches, 
Just above the roots he cut it. 
Till the sap came oozing outward; 
Down the trunk, from top to bottom. 
Sheer he cleft the bark asunder. 
With a w^ooden wedge he raised it, 
Stripped it from the trunk unbroken. 

"Give me of your boughs, O Cedar! 
Of your strong and pliant branches, 
INIy canoe to make more steady. 
Make more strong and firm beneath me!" 

Through the summit of the Cedar 
69 




if 







The Sung of Hiawatha 

Went a sound, a cry of horror, 
Went a murmur of resistance ; 
But it whispered, bending downward, 
"Take my boughs, O Hiawatha!" 

Down he hewed the boughs of cedar, 
Shaped them straightway to a framework. 
Like two bows he formed and shaped them, 
Like two bended bows together. 

"Give me of your roots, O Tamarack! 
Of your fibrous roots, O Larch-Tree! 
My canoe to bind together. 
So to bind the ends together, 
That the water may not enter. 
That the river ma}^ hot wet me!'* 

And the Larch, with all its fibres. 
Shivered in the air of morning. 
Touched his forehead wdth its tassels, 
Said, with one long sigh of sorrow, 
"Take them all, O Hiawatha!" 

From the earth he tore the fibres, 
Tore the tough roots of the Larch-Tree, 
Closely sewed the bark together. 
Bound it closely to the framework. 

"Give me of your balm, O Fir-Tree! 
Of your balsam and your resin. 
So to close the seams together 
That the water may not enter. 
That the river may not wet me!" 

And the Fir-Tree, tall and sombre, 
Sobbed through all its robes of darkness. 
Rattled like a shore with pebbles. 
Answered wailing, answered weeping, 
"Take my balm, O Hiawatha!" 
70 







•»^i»»ifc.*» 



=^ Hiawatha s Sailing 

And he took the tears of balsam, 
Took the resin of the Fir- Tree, 
Smeared therewith each seam and fissure 
Made each crevice safe from water. 
/* "Give me of your quills, O Hedgehog 
^ All your quills, O Kagh, the Hedgehog 
I will make a necklace of them. 
Make a girdle for my beauty. 
And two stars to deck her bosom!" 

From a hollow tree the Hedgehog 
With his sleepy eyes looked at him, 
Shot his shining quills, like arrows. 
Saying, with a drowsy murmur. 
Through the tangle of his whiskers, 
"Take my quills, O Hiawatha!" 

From the ground the quills he gathered 
All the little shining arrows. 
Stained them red and blue and yellow, 
With the juice of roots and berries; 
Into his canoe he wrought them. 
Round its w^aist a shining girdle, 
Round its bows a gleaming necklace. 
On its breast two stars resplendent. 

Thus the Birch Canoe was builded 
In the valley, by the river, 
In the bosom of the forest; 
And the forest's life was in it, 
All its mystery and its magic. 
All the lightness of the birch-tree, 
All the toughness of the cedar, 
All the larch's supple sinews; 
And it floated on the river. 
Like a yellow leaf in Autumn, 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Like a yellow water-lily. 

Paddles none had Hiawatha, 
Paddles none he had or needed, 
For his thoughts as paddles served him, 
And his wishes served to guide him ; 
Swift or slow at will he glided, 
Veered to right or left at pleasure. 

Then he called aloud to Kwasind, 
To his friend, the strong man, Kwasind, 
Sajang, "Help me clear this river 
Of its sunken logs and sand-bars." 

Straight into the river Kwasind 
Plunged as if he were an otter. 
Dived as if he were a beaver. 
Stood up to his waist in water. 
To his arm-pits in the river, 
Swam and shouted in the river. 
Tugged at sunken logs and branches, 
With his hands he scooped the sand-bars, 
With his feet the ooze and tangle. 

And thus sailed my Hiaw^atha 
Down the rushing Taquamenaw, 
Sailed through all its bends and v, indings, 
Sailed through all its deeps and sliallows, 
While his friend, the strong man, 

Kwasind, 
Swam the deeps, the shallows waded. 

Up and down the river went they. 
In and out among its islands. 
Cleared its bed of root and sand-bar, 
Dragged the dead trees from its channel, 
INIade its passage safe and certain, 
JNIade a pathway for the people. 




====:> Hiawatha s Sailing 

From its springs among the mountains 
To the waters of Pauwating, 
( To the bay of Taquamenaw. 

VIII 

HIAWATHA^S FISHING 

Forth upon the Gitche Gumee, 
On the shining Big- Sea- Water, 
With his fishing-Hne of cedar, 
Of the twisted bark of cedar. 
Forth to catch the sturgeon Nahma, 
Mishe-Nahma, King of Fishes, 
In his birch canoe exulting 
All alone went Hiawatha. 

Through the clear, transparent water 
He could see the fishes swimming 
Far down in the depths below him; 
See the yellow perch, the Sahwa, 
Like a sunbeam in the water. 
See the Shawgashee, the craw-fish. 
Like a spider on the bottom. 
On the white and sandy bottom. 

At the stern sat Hiawatha, 
With his fishing-line of cedar; 
In his plumes the breeze of morning 
Played as in the hemlock branches ; 
On the bows, with tail erected, 
Sat the squirrel, Adjidaumo; 
In his fur the breeze of morning 
Played as in the prairie grasses. 

On the white sand of the bottom 
Lay the monster Mishe-Nahma, 




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21ie Song of IliatcatJia 

Lay the sturgeon, King of Fishes; 
Through his gills he breathed the water 
With his fins he fanned and winno^ved, 
With his tail he swept the sand-floor. 

There he lay in all his armor; 
On each side a shield to guard him, 
Plates of bone upon his forehead, 
Down his sides and back and shoulders 
Plates of bone wdth spine projecting, 
Painted was he with his war-paints, 
Stripes of yellow, red, and azure, 
Spots of brown and spots of sable; 
And he lay there on the bottom. 
Fanning with his fins of purple. 
As above him Hiawatha 
In his birch canoe came sailing, 
With his fishing-line of cedar. 

"Take my bait!" cried Hiawatha, 
Down into the depths beneath him, 
"Take my bait, O Sturgeon, Nahma! 
Come up from below the w ater. 
Let us see which is the stronger!" 
And he dropped his line of cedar 
Through the clear, transparent water. 
Waited vainly for an answer. 
Long sat waiting for an answer. 
And repeating loud and louder, 
"Take my bait, O King of Fishes!" 

Quiet lay the sturgeon, Nahma, 
Fanning slowly in the water, 
Looking up at Hiawatha, 
Listening to his call and clamor. 
His unnecessary tumult, 



7^ 







» Hiawatha s Fishing 

Till he wearied of the shouting; 
And he said to the Kenozha, 
To the pike, the Maskenozha, 
"Take the bait of this rude fellow, 
Break the line of Hiawatha!" 

In his fingers Hiawatha 
Felt the loose line jerk and tighten; 
As he drew it in, it tugged so. 
That the birch canoe stood endwise. 
Like a birch log in the water, 
With the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Perched and frisking on the summit. 

Full of scorn was Hiawatha 
When he saw the fish rise upward, 
Saw the pike, the JNIaskenozha, 
Coming nearer, nearer to him. 
And he shouted through the water, 
"Esa! esa! shame upon you! 
You are but the pike, Kenozha, 
You are not the fish I wanted. 
You are not the King of Fishes!" 

Reeling downward to the bottom 
Sank the pike in great confusion. 
And the mighty sturgeon, Nahma, 
Said to Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
To the bream, with scales of crimson, 
"Take the bait of this great boaster. 
Break the line of Hiawatha!" 

Slowly upward, wavering, gleaming 
Rose the Ugudwash, the sun-fish. 
Seized the line of Hiawatha, 
Swung with all his weight upon it. 
Made a whirlpool in the water, 



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The Song of Hiawatha ^ 

Whirled the birch canoe in circles, 
Kound and round in gurgling eddies, 
Till the circles in the water 
Reached the far-off sandy beaches. 
Till the water-flags and rushes 
Nodded on the distant margins. 

But when Hiawatha saw him 
Slowty rising through the water, 
Lifting up his disk refulgent, 
Loud he shouted in derision, 
"Esa! esa! shame upon you! 
You are Ugudwash, the sun-fish, 
You are not the fish I wanted, 
You are not the King of Fishes!" 

Slowly downward, wavering, gleaming 
Sank the Ugudwash, the sun-fish. 
And again the sturgeon, Nahma, 
Heard the shout of Hiawatha, 
Heard his challenge of defiance, 
The unnecessary tumult, 
Ringing far across the water. 

From the white sand of the bottom 
Up he rose with angry gesture, 
Quivering in each nerve and fibre. 
Clashing all his plates of armor. 
Gleaming bright with all his w^ar-paint ; 
In his wrath he darted upward, 
Flashing leaped into the sunshine. 
Opened his great jaws, and swallowed 
Both canoe and Hiawatha. 

Down into that darksome cavern 
Plunged the headlong Hiawatha, 
As a log on some black river 

76 




c=^ 




I 



Hiawatha s Fishing 

Shoots and plunges down the rapids, 
Found himself in utter darkness, 
Groped about in helpless wonder. 
Till he felt a great heart beating. 
Throbbing in that utter darkness. 

And he smote it in his anger, 
With his fist, the heart of Nahma, 
Felt the mighty King of Fishes 
Shudder through each nerve and tibre. 
Heard the water gurgle round him 
As he leaped and staggered through it, 
Sick at heart, and faint and weary. 

Crosswise then did Hiawatha 
Drag his birch-canoe for safety. 
Lest from out the jaws of Nahma, 
In the turmoil and confusion. 
Forth he might be hurled and perish. 
And the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Frisked and chattered very gayly. 
Toiled and tugged with Hiawatha 
Till the labor was completed. 

Then said Hiaw^atha to him, 
"O my little friend, the squirrel. 
Bravely have you toiled to help me ; 
Take the thanks of Hiawatha, 
And the name which now he gives you ; 
For hereafter and forever 
Boys shall call you Adjidaumo, 
Tail-in-air the boys shall call you!" 

And agan the sturgeon, Nahma, 
Gasped and quivered in the water. 
Then was still, and drifted landward 
Till he grated on the pebbles, 
77 




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The Song of Hiawatha 

Till the listening Hiawatha 

Heard him grate upon the margin, 

Felt him strand upon the pebbles, -^ 

Knew that Nahma, King of Fishes, 

Lay there dead upon the margin. 

Then he heard a clang and flapping, 
As of many wings assembling. 
Heard a screaming and confusion, 
As of birds of prey contending, 
Saw a gleam of light above him. 
Shining through the ribs of Nahma, 
Saw the glittering eyes of sea-gulls. 
Of Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, peering. 
Gazing at him through the opening. 
Heard them saying to each other, 
" 'T is our brother, Hiawatha!" 

And he shouted from below them. 
Cried exulting from the caverns: 
"O ye sea-gulls! O my brothers! 
I have slain the sturgeon, Nahma; 
JNIake the rifts a little larger. 
With your claws the openings widen. 
Set me free from this dark prison. 
And henceforward and forever 
Men shall speak of your achievements, 
Calling you Kayoshk, the sea-gulls, 
Yes, Kayoshk, the Noble Scratchers!" 

And the wild and clamorovis sea-gulls 
Toiled with beak and claws together. 
Made the rifts and openings wider 
In the mighty ribs of Nahma, "^^^ 

And from peril and from prison, C3^ 

From the body of the sturgeon, ^^^ 




Hiawatha s Fishing 

From the peril of the water, 
They released my Hiawatha. 

He was standing near his wigwam, 
On the margin of the water, 
And he called to old Nokomis, 
Called and beckoned to Nokomis, 
Pointed to the sturgeon, Nahma, 
Lying lifeless on the pebbles, 
With the sea-gulls feeding on him. 

"I have slain the JVIishe-Nahma, 
Slain the King of Fishes!" said he; 
''Look! the sea-gulls feed upon him. 
Yes, my friends Kayoshk, the sea-gulls; 
Drive them not away, Nokomis, 
They have saved me from great peril 
In the body of the sturgeon, 
Wait until their meal is ended, 
Till their craws are full with feasting, 
Till they homeward fly, at sunset, 
To their nests among the marshes; 
Then bring all your pots and kettles. 
And make oil for us in Winter." 

And she waited till the sun set, 
Till the pallid moon, the Night-sun, 
Rose above the tranquil water. 
Till Kayoshk, the sated sea-gulls, 
From their banquet rose with clamor, 
And across the fiery sunset 
Winged their w^ay to far-off islands. 
To their nests among the rushes. 

To his sleep went Hiawatha, 
And Nokomis to her labor, 
Toiling patient in the moonlight, 
79 



^^( 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Till the sun and moon changed places, 
Till the sky was red with sunrise, 
And Kayoshk, the hungry sea-gulls. 
Came back from the reedy islands. 
Clamorous for their morning banquet. 

Three whole days and nights alternate 
Old Nokomis and the sea-gulls 
Stripped the oily flesh of Nahma, 
Till the waves washed through the rib- 
bones, 
Till the sea-gulls came no longer. 
And upon the sands lay nothing 
But the skeleton of Nahma. 



^^^J 



^ 



IX 



HIAWATHA AND THE PEAKL-FEATHER 



^h 



i 



On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
dl Of the shining Big- Sea- Water, 
Stood Nokomis, the old woman, 
Pointing with her finger w^estward, 
O'er the water pointing westward. 
To the purple clouds of sunset. 

Fiercely the red sun descending 
Burned his way along the heavens. 
Set the sky on fire behind him, 
As war-parties, when retreating, 
Burn the prairies on their war-trail; 
And the moon, the Night-sun, eastward. 
Suddenly starting from his ambush, 
Followed fast those bloody footprints, 
Followed in that fiery war-trail, 
80 



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Hiawatha and the Pearl-Feather 

With its glare upon his features. 

And Nokomis, the old woman, 
Pointing with her finger westward, 
Spake these words to Hiawatha : 
"Yonder dwells the great Pearl-Feather, 
JNIegissogwon, the Magician, 
Manito of Wealth and Wampum. 
Guarded by his fiery serpents. 
Guarded by the black pitch-water. 
You can see his fiery serpents. 
The Kenabeek, the great serpents, 
Coiling, playing in the water ; 
You can see the black pitch-water 
Stretching far away beyond them. 
To the purple clouds of sunset ! 

"He it was who slew my father. 
By his wicked wiles and cunning. 
When he from the moon descended, 
When he came on earth to seek me. 
He, the mightiest of Magicians, 
Sends the fever from the marshes. 
Sends the pestilential vapors, 
Sends the poisonovis exhalations, 
Sends the white fog from the fen-lands. 
Sends disease and death among us! 

"Take your bow, O Hiawatha, 
Take your arrows, jasper-headed. 
Take your war-club, Puggawaugun, 
And your mittens, INIinjekahwun, 
And your birch canoe for sailing, 
And the oil of Mishe-Nahma, 
So to smear its sides, that swiftly 
You may pass the black pitch- water; 
81 




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Song of II laic at ha 



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Slay this merciless magician, 
Save the people from the fever 
That he breathes across the fen-lands, 
^s::'^^. "%_3^i \ And avenge my father's murder!" 
'4/ ^^^ W^ ) Straightway then my Hiawatha 

Armed himself with all his war-gear, 
Launched his birch canoe for sailing; 
\f. With his palm its sides he parted, 
f-^^^^^M^''J i Said with glee, "Cheemaun, my darling, 
O my Birch-canoe! leap forward, 
Where you see the fiery serpents. 
Where you see the black pitch-water!" 

Forward leaped Cheemaun exulting, 
And the Xoble Hiawatha 
Sang his Avar-song wild and woful, 
And above him the war-eagle. 
The Keneu, the great war-eagle, 
JNIaster of all fowls with feathers, 
Screamed and hurtled through the heavens. 
IJfi Soon he reached the fiery serpents. 

The Kenabeek, the great serpents, 
Lying huge upon the water. 
Sparkling, rippling in the water. 
Lying coiled across the passage. 
With their blazing crests uplifted, 
Breathing fierj^ fogs and vapors. 
So that none could pass beyond them. 

But the fearless Hiawatha 
Cried aloud, and spake in this wise: 
}A0^^=^^j^ "Let me pass my way, Kenabeek, 
^ Let me go upon my journey!" 

And they answered, hissing fiercely. 
With their fiery breath made answer : 
82 







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The Song of Hiawatha 

"Back, go back! O Shaugodaya! 
Back to old Xokomis, Faint-heart!" 

Then the angry Hiawatha 
Baised his mighty bow of ash- tree, 
Seized his arrows, jasper-headed, 
Shot them fast among the serpents, 
"^1 ) Every twanging of the bow-string- 
Was a w^ar-cry and a death-cry. 
Every whizzing of an arrow 
Was a death-song of Kenabeek. 

Weltering in the bloody water, 
Dead lay all the fiery serpents. 
And among them Hiawatha 
Harmless sailed, and cried exulting: 
"Onward, O Cheemaun, my darling! 
Onward to the black pitch-water!" 

Then he took the oil of Xahma, 
And the bows and sides anointed. 
Smeared them well w ith oil, that swiftly 
d. He might pass the black pitch-water. 

All night long he sailed upon it. 
Sailed upon that sluggish water. 
Covered with its mould of ages. 
Black with rotting water-rushes, 
Bank with flags and leaves of lilies, 
Stagnant, lifeless, dreary, dismal, 
Lighted by the shimmering moonlight. 
And by will-o'-the-wisps illumined. 
Fires by ghosts of dead men kindled, 
In their weary night-encampments. 

All the air was white Avith moonlight, 
All the water black with shadow. 
And around him the Suggema, 
84 



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Hiawatha and the Pearl-Feather 



The mosquito, sang his war-song, 
And the fire-flies, Wah-wah-taysee, 
Waved their torches to mislead him ; 
And the bull-frog, the Dahinda, 
Thrust his head into the moonlight, 
Fixed his yellow ej^es upon him. 
Sobbed and sank beneath the surface. 
And anon a thousand whistles, 
Answered over all the fen-lands 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
Far off on the reedy margin. 
Heralded the hero's coming. 

Westward thus fared Hiawatha, 
Toward the realm of JNIegissogwon, 
Toward the land of the Pearl-Feather, 
Till the level moon stared at him, 
In his face stared pale and haggard, 
Till the sun was hot behind him. 
Till it burned upon his shoulders. 
And before him on the upland 
He could see the Shining Wigwam, 
Of the ^lanito of Wampum. 
Of the mightiest of Magicians, 

Then once more Cheemaun he patted. 
To his birch-canoe said, "Onward!" 
And it stirred in all its fibres. 
And with one great bound of triumph 
Leaped across the water-lilies. 
Leaped through tangled flags and rushes, 
And upon the beach beyond them 
Dry-shod landed Hiawatha. 

Straight he took his bow of ash-tree. 
On the sand one end he rested, 
85 



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The Song of Iliatcatha 

AVitli his knee he pressed the middle, 

Stretched the faithful how-string tightei*, 

Took an arrow, jasper-headed, 

Shot it at the Shining AVigwam, 

Sent it singing as a herald, 

As a bearer of his message, 

Of his challenge loud and lofty : 

j^ "Come forth from your lodge, Pearl- 
Feather! 
Hiawatha waits your coming!" 

Straightway from the Shining Wigwam 
Came the mighty JVIegissogwon, 
Tall of stature, broad of shoulder, 
Dark and terrible in aspect. 
Clad from head to foot in wampum, 
Armed with all his warlike weapons, 
Painted like the sky of morning, 
Streaked with crimson, blue and yellow, 
Crested with great eagle-feathers, 

Streaming upward, streaming outward. 
"Well I know you, Hiawatha!" 
Cried he in a voice of thunder. 
In a tone of loud derision. 
"Hasten back, O Shaugodaya! 
Hasten back among the women. 
Back to old Nokomis, Faint-heart! 
I will slay you as you stand there, 
As of old I slew her father!" 

But my Hiawatha answered. 
Nothing daunted, fearing nothing: 
"Big words do not smite like war-clubs. 
Boastful breath is not a bow-string. 
Taunts are not as sharp as arrows, 
86 



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Hiatcatha cmd the Pearl-t eather 

Deeds are better things than words are, 
Actions mightier than boastings!" 

Then begun the greatest battle 
That the sun had ever looked on, 
That the war-birds ever witnessed. 
All a Summer's day it lasted, 
From the sunrise to the sunset ; 
For the shafts of Hiaw^atha 
Harmless hit the shirt of wampum, 
Harmless fell the blows he dealt it 
With his mittens, jMinjekahwun, 
Harmless fell the heavy war-club ; 
It could dash the rocks asunder, 
But it could not break the meshes 
Of that magic shirt of wampum. 

Till at sunset Hiawatha, 
Leaning on his bow of ash-tree, 
Wounded, weary, and desponding. 
With his mighty war-club broken. 
With his mittens torn and tattered, 
And three useless arrows only, 
Paused to rest beneath a pine-tree. 
From whose branches trailed the mosses. 
And whose trunk was coated over 
With the Dead-man's JMoccasin-leather, 
With the fungus white and yellow. 

Suddenly from the boughs above him 
Sang the IMama, the woodpecker: 
"Aim your arrows, Hiawatha, 
At the head of INIegissogwon, 
Strike the tuft of hair upon it. 
At their roots the long black tresses ; 
There alone can he be wounded!" 
87 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Winged with feathers, tipped with jas- 
per, 
Swift flew Hiawatha's arrow, 
Just as Megissogwon, stooping. 
Raised a heavy stone to throw it. 
Full upon the crown it struck him, 
At the roots of his long tresses. 
And he reeled and staggered forward, 
Plunging like a wounded hison, 
Yes, like Pezhekee, the hison. 
When the snow is on the prairie. 

Swifter flew the second arrow. 
In the pathway of the other. 
Piercing deeper than the other, 
Wounded sorer than the other; 
And the knees of Megissogwon 
Shook like windy reeds beneath him. 
Bent and trembled like the rushes. 

But the third and latest arrow 
Swiftest flew, and wounded sorest, 
And the mighty JNIegissogwon 
Saw the fiery eyes of Pauguk, 
Saw the eyes of Death glare at him, 
Heard his voice call in the darkness ; 
At the feet of Hiaw^atha 
Lifeless la}^ the great Pearl-Feather, 
Lay the mightiest of Magicians. 

Then the grateful Hiawatha 
Called the Mama, the woodpecker. 
From his perch among the branches 
Of the melancholy pine-tree, 
And, in honor of his service. 
Stained with blood the tuft of feathers 






E^ 




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The Song of Hiawatha 

On the little head of JNIama ; 
Even to this day he wears it, 
\^^ears the tuft of crimson feathers 
As a symbol of his service. 

Then he stripped the shirt of wampum 
From the back of Megissogwon, 
As a trophy of the battle, 
As a signal of his conquest. 
On the shore he left the body, 
Half on land and half in w^ater, 
In the sand his feet were buried, 
And his face was in the water. 
And above him, wheeled and clamored 
The Keneu, the great war-eagle, 
Sailing round in narrower circles. 
Hovering nearer, nearer, nearer. 

From the wigwam Hiawatha 
Bore the wealth of JNIegissogwon, 
All his wealth of skins and wampum. 
Furs of bison and of beaver, 
Furs of sable and of ermine, 
Wampinn belts and strings and pouches, 
Quivers wrought with beads of wampum, 
Filled with arrows, silver-headed. 

Homeward then he sailed exulting, 
Homeward through the black pitch-water, 
Homeward through the weltering ser- 
pents. 
With the tropics of the battle. 
With a shout and song of triumph. 

On the shore stood old Nokomis, 
On the shore stood Chibiabos, 
And the very strong man, Kwasind, 
90 




Hiawatha and the Pearl-Feather 

Waiting for the hero's coming, 
Listening to his song of triumph. 
f^ And the people of the village 
r ^ Welcomed him with songs and dances, 
Made a joyous feast, and shouted: 
"Honor be to Hiawatha! 
He has slain the great Pearl-Feather, 
Slain the mightiest of JNIagicians, 
Him who sent the fiery fever. 
Sent the white fog from the fen-lands, 
Sent disease and death among us!" 

Ever dear to Hiawatha 
Was the memory of IVIama! 
And in token of his friendship. 
As a mark of his remembrance, 
He adorned and decked his pipe-stem 
With the crimson tuft of feathers, 
With the blood-red crest of JNIama. 
But the wealth of JNIegissogwon, 
All the trophies of the battle, 
He divided with his people. 
Shared it equally among them. 



HIAWATHA S WOOING 

"As unto the bow the cord is, 
So unto the man is woman. 
Though she bends him, she obeys him. 
Though she draws him, yet she follows. 
Useless each without the other!" 
Thus the youthful Hiawatha 
Said within himself and pondered, 
91 




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'^W^: 



The Song^ of Hiawatha 

JNluch perplexed by various feelings, 
Listless, longing, hoping, fearing. 
Dreaming still of Minnehaha, 
Of the lovely Laughing Water, 
In the land of the Dacotahs. 

"Wed a maiden of your people," 
Warning said the old Nokomis ; 
"Go not eastward, go not westward, 
For a stranger, whom we know not ! 
Like a fire upon the hearth-stone 
Is a neighbor's homely daughter, 
Like the starlight or the moonlight 
Is the handsomest of strangers!" 

Thus dissuading spake Nokomis, 
And my Hiawatha answered 
Only this: "Dear old Nokomis, 
Very pleasant is the firelight. 
But I like the starlight better. 
Better do I like the moonlight!" 

Gravely then said old Nokomis : 
"Bring not here an idle maiden, 
Bring not here a useless woman, 
Hands unskilful, feet unwilling ; 
Bring a wife with nimble fingers. 
Heart and hand that move together, 
Feet that run on willing errands!" 

Smiling answered Hiawatha: 
"In the land of the Dacotahs 
Lives the Arrow-maker's daughter, 
INIinnehaha, Laughing Water, 
Handsomest of all the women. 
I will bring her to your wigwam. 
She shall run upon your errands, 
92 



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t 



Hiawatha s Wooing 

Be your starlight, moonlight, firelight, 
Be the sunlight of my people!" 

Still dissuading said Nokomis: ' ::7^~ 

"Bring not to my lodge a stranger 
From the land of the Dacotahs ! 
Very fierce are the Dacotahs, 
Often is there war between us, 
There are feuds yet unforgotten, 
Wounds that ache and still may open!" 

Laughing answered Hiawatha : 
"For that reason, if no other. 
Would I wed the fair Dacotah, 
That our tribes might be united, 
That old feuds might be forgotten, 
And old wounds be healed forever!" 

Thus departed Hiawatha 
To the land of the Dacotahs, 
To the land of handsome women; 
Striding over moor and meadow. 
Through interminable forests, Ih 

Through uninterrupted silence. 

With his moccasins of magic. 
At each stride a mile he measured ; 
Yet the way seemed long before him, 
And his heart outrun his footsteps ; 
And he journeyed without resting, 
Till he heard the cataract's laughter. 
Heard the Falls of JNIinnehaha 
Calling to him through the silence. 
"Pleasant is the sound!" he murmured, 
"Pleasant is the voice that calls me!" 

On the outskirts of the forest, 
'Twixt the shadow and the sunshine, 



\^ 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Herds of fallow deer were feeding, 
But they saw not Hiawatha ; 
To his bow he whispered, "Fail not!" 
To his arrow whispered, "Swerve not!" 
Sent it singing on its errand. 
To the red heart of the roebuck ; 
Threw the deer across his shoulder. 
And sped forward without pausing. 

At the doorway of his wigwam 
Sat the ancient Arrow-maker, 
In the land of the Dacotahs, 
Making arrow-heads of jasper, 
Arrow-heads of chalcedony. 
At his side, in all her beauty. 
Sat the lovely Minnehaha, 
Sat his daughter, Laughing Water. 
Plaiting mats of flags and rushes; 
Of the past the old man's thoughts were, 
And the maiden's of the future. 

He was thinking, as he sat there, 
Of the days when with such arrows 
He had struck the deer and bison, 
On the ]Muskoday, the meadow ; 
Shot the wild goose, flying southward. 
On the wing, the clamorous Wawa; 
Thinking of the great war-parties. 
How they came to buy his arrows, 
Could not fight without his arrows. 
Ah, no more such noble warriors 
Could be found on earth as they were ! 
Now the men were all like women. 
Only used their tongues for weapons ! 

She was thinking of a hunter, 
94 



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C3S 




Hiawatha s Wooing 

From another tribe and country, 
Young and tall and very handsome, 
Who one morning, in the Spring-time, 
Came to buy her father's arrows. 
Sat and rested in the wigwam. 
Lingered long about the doorway, 
Looking back as he departed. 
She had heard her father praise him. 
Praise his courage and his wisdom ; 
Would he come again for arrows 
To the Falls of JNlinnehaha? 
On the mat her hands lay idle. 
And her eyes were very dreamy. 

Through their thoughts they heard a 
footstep), 
Heard a rustling in the branches. 
And with glowing cheek and forehead, 
With the deer upon his shoulders, 
Suddenly from out the woodlands 
Hiawatha stood before them. 

Straight the ancient Arrow-maker 
Looked up gravely from his labor. 
Laid aside the unfinished arrow, 
Bade him enter at the doorway, 
Sajdng, as he rose to meet him, 
"Hiawatha, you are welcome!" 

At the feet of Laughing Water 
Hiawatha laid his burden. 
Threw the red deer from his shoulders ; 
And the maiden looked up at him, 
Looked up from her mat of rushes, 
Said with gentle look and accent, 
"You are welcome, Hiawatha!" 
95 



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The Song of Hiawatha 

Very spacious was the wigwam, 
JMade of deer-skin dressed and whitened 
With the Gods of the Dacotahs 
Drawn and painted on its curtains, 
And so tall the doorway, hardly 
Hiawatha stooped to enter. 
Hardly touched his eagle-feathers 
As he entered at the door- way. 

Then uprose the Laughing Water, 
From the ground fair Minnehaha, 
Laid aside her mat unfinished. 
Brought forth food and set before them. 
Water brought them from the brooklet. 
Gave them food in earthen vessels. 
Gave them drink in bowls of bass-wood, 
Listened while the guest was speaking. 
Listened while her father answered. 
But not once her lips she opened. 
Not a single word she uttered. 

Yes, as in a dream she listened 
To the words of Hiawatha, 
As he talked of old Nokomis, 
Who had nursed him in his childhood. 
As he told of his companions, 
Chibiabos, the musician. 
And the very strong man, Kwasind, 
And of happiness and plenty 
In the land of the Ojibways, 
In the pleasant land and peaceful. 

"After many years of warfare, 
JNIany years of strife and bloodshed. 
There is peace between the Ojibways 
And the tribe of the Dacotahs." 
96 






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Hiawatha s Wooing 

Thus continued Hiawatha, 
And then added, speaking slowly, 
f] "That this peace may last forever, 
r < And our hands be elapsed more closely, 
And our hearts be more united. 
Give me as my wife this maiden, 
Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 
Loveliest of Dacotah women!" 

And the ancient Arrow-maker 
Paused a moment ere he answered, 
Smoked a little while in silence. 
Looked at Hiawatha proudly. 
Fondly looked at Laughing Water, 
And made answer very gravely: 
"Yes, if Minnehaha wishes ; 
Let your heart speak, Minnehaha!" 

And the lovely I^aughing Water 
Seemed more lovely, as she stood there, 
Neither willing nor reluctant. 
As she went to Hiawatha, 
Softly took the seat beside him. 
While she said, and blushed to say it, 
"I will follow you, my husband!" 

This was HiaAvatha's wooing! 
Thus it w^as he won the daughter 
Of the ancient Arrow-maker, 
In the land of the Dacotahs ! 

From the wigwam he departed. 
Leading with him Laughing Water; 
Hand in hand they went together. 
Through the woodland and the meadow, 
Left the old man standing lonely 
At the doorway of his wigwam, 
97 



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^' 



The Song of Hiawatha ^^ 

Heard the Falls of JNIinnehaha 
Calling to them from the distance, 
Crying to them from afar off, 
"Fare thee well, O JNIinnehaha !" 

And the ancient Arrow-maker 
Turned again unto his labor. 
Sat down by his sunny doorway, 
JNIurmuring to himself, and saying : 
"Thus it is our daughters leave us, 
Those we love, and those who love us ! 
Just when they have learned to help us, 
AVhen we are old and lean upon them, 
Comes a youth with flaunting feathers, 
With his flute of reeds, a stranger 
Wanders piping through the village, 
Beckons to the fairest maiden. 
And she follows where he leads her. 
Leaving all things for the stranger!" 

Pleasant was the journey homeward, 
Through interminable forests. 
Over meadow, over mountain. 
Over river, hill, and hollow. 
Short it seemed to Hiawatha, 
Though they journeyed very slowly, 
Though his pace he checked and slackened 
To the steps of Laughing Water. 

Over wide and rushing rivers 
In his arms he bore the maiden ; 
Light he thought her as a feather, 
As the plume upon his head-gear ; 
Cleared the tangled pathway for her. 
Bent aside the swaying branches, 
JNIade at night a lodge of branches, 
98 






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The Song of Hiawatha 

Aiid a bed with boughs of hemlocK, 
And a fire before the doorway 
With the dry cones of the pine-tree. 

All the travelling winds went with them, 
O'er the meadowy through the forest: 
All the stars of night looked at them, 
Watched with sleepless eyes their slumber ; 
From his ambush in the oak-tree 
Peeped the squirrel, Adjidaumo, 
Watched w ith eager eyes the lovers ; 
And the rabbit, the Wabasso, 
Scampered from the path before them. 
Peering, peeping from his burrow. 
Sat erect upon his haunches. 
Watched with curious eyes the lovers. 

Pleasant was the journey homeward! 
All the birds sang loud and sweetly 
Songs of happiness and heart's-ease ; 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
"Happy are you, Hiawatha, 
Having such a wife to love you!" 
Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
"Happy are you, Laughing Water, 
Having such a noble husband!" 

From the sky the sun benignant 
Looked upon them through the branches, 
Saying to them, "O my children, 
Love is sunshine, hate is shadow, 
Life is checkered shade and sunshine. 
Rule by love, O Hiawatha!" 

From the sky the moon looked at them, 
Filled the lodge with mystic splendors, 
Whispered to them, "O my children. 



JU 



i 



i 



Hiawatha s Wooing 

Day is restless, night is quiet, 
JNIan imperious, woman feeble; 
Half is mine, although I follow; 
Rule by patience. Laughing Water!" 

Thus it was they journeyed homeward; 
Thus it was that Hiawatha 
To the lodge of old Xokomis 
Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight 
Brought the sunshine of his people, 
Minnehaha, Laughing Water, 
Handsomest of all the women 
In the land of the Dacotahs, 
In the land of handsome women. 



^^/, 



C\i 



!^«S? 



PART II 



XI 



HIAWATHA S WEDDING-FEAST 

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
How the handsome Yenadizze 
Danced at Hiawatha's weddmg; 
How the gentle Chibiabos, 
He the sweetest of musicians, 
Sang his songs of love and longing; 
How lagoo, the great boaster, 
He the marvellous story-teller. 
Told his tales of strange adventure. 
That the feast might be more joyous, 
That the time might pass more gayly. 
And the guests be more contented. 

Sumptuous was the feast Xokomis 
Made at Hiawatha's wedding; 
All the bows were made of bass-wood. 
White and polished very smoothly. 
All the spoons of horn of bison. 
Black and polished very smoothly. 

She had sent through all the village 
Messengers with wands of willow. 
As a sign of invitation. 
As a token of the feasting ; 
And the wedding guests assembled, 
Clad in all their richest raiment. 
Robes of fur and belts of wampum, 
Splendid with their paint and plumage 
Beautiful with beads and tassels. 
1C3 




7J 




The Song of Hiatcatha 

First they ate the sturgeon, Nahma, 
And the pike, the Maskenozha, 
Caught and cooked by old Nokomis ; 
Then on pemican they feasted, 
Pemican and buffalo marrow, 
Plaunch of deer and hump of bison, 
Yellow cakes of the JNIondamin, 
And the wild rice of the river. 

But the gracious Hiawatha, 
And the lovely Laughing Water, 
And the careful old Nokomis, 
Tasted not the food before them. 
Only waited on the others. 
Only served their guests in silence. 
And when all the guests had finished. 
Old Nokomis, brisk and busy. 
From an ample pouch of otter. 
Filled the red stone pipes for smoking 
With tobacco from the South-land, 
Mixed with bark of the red willow. 
And with herbs and leaves of fragrance. 

Then she said, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Dance for us j^our merry dances. 
Dance the Beggar's Dance to please us 
That the feast may be more joyous. 
That the time may pass more gayly. 
And our guests be more contented!" 

Then the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
He the idle Yenadizze, 
He the merry mischief-maker, 
Whom the people called the Storm-Fool, 
Rose among the guests assembled. 

Skilled was he in sports and pastimes, 
104 



<i 




Hiawatha s Wedding-Feast 

In the merry dance of snow-shoes, 
In the play of quoits and ball-play ; 

Skilled was he in games of hazard. 
In all games of skill and hazard, 
Pugasaing, the Bowl and Counters, 
Kuntassoo, the Game of Plum-stones. 
Though the warriors called him Faint- 

Ileart, 
Called him coward, Shaugodaya, 
Idler, gambler, Yenadizze, 
Little heeded he their jesting. 
Little cared he for their insults, 
For the w^omen and the maidens 
Loved the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

He was diessed in shirt of doe-skin. 
White and soft, and fringed with ermine, 
All inwrought with beads of wampum ; 
He was dressed in deer-skin leggings. 
Fringed with hedgehog quills and ermine, 
And in moccasins of buck-skin. 
Thick with quills and beads embroidered. 
On his head were plumes of swan's down, 
On his heels were tails of foxes. 
In one hand a fan of feathers. 
And a pipe was in the other. 

Barred with streaks of red and yellow. 
Streaks of blue and bright vermilion, 
Shone the face of Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
From his forehead fell his tresses. 
Smooth, and parted like a woman's. 
Shining bright with oil, and plaited, 
Hung with braids of scented grasses. 
As among the guests assembled, 
105 



iX^ 




-^ 




The Song of Hiawatha 

To the sound of flutes and singing, 
To the sound of drums and voicts, 
Rose the handsome Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
And began his mystic dances. 

First he danced a solemn measure 
Very slow in step and gesture, 
In and out among the pine- trees, 
Through the shadows and the sunshine. 
Treading softly like a panther. 
Then more swiftly and still swifter. 
Whirling, spinning round in circles, 
Leaj)ing o'er the guests assembled. 
Eddying round and round the wigwam, 
Till the leaves went whirling with him, 
Till the dust and wind together 
Swept in eddies round about him. 

Then along the sand}'^ margin 
Of the lake, the Big- Sea- Water, 
On he sped with frenzied gestures, 
Stamped upon the sand, and tossed it 
Wildly in the air around him ; 
Till the wind became a whirlwind. 
Till the sand was blown and sifted 
Like great snowdrifts o'er the landscape. 
Heaping all the shores with Sand Dunes, 
Sand Hills of the Xagow Wudjoo! 

Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Danced his Beggar's Dance to please 

them. 
And, returning, sat down laughing 
There among the guests assembled, 
Sat and fanned himself serenely 
With his fan of turkey-feathers. 
106 




Hiawatha s Wedding-Feast 

Then tliej^ said to Chibiabos, 
To the friend of Hiawatha, 
To the sweetest of all singers. 
To the best of all musicians, 
"Sing to us, O Chibiabos! 
Songs of love and songs of longing, 
That the feast may be more joyous, 
That the time may pass more gayly. 
And our guests be more contented!' 

And the gentle Chibiabos 
Sang in accents sweet and tender. 
Sang in tones of deep emotion, 
Songs of love and songs of longing; 
Looking still at Hiawatha, 
Looking at fair Laughing Water, 
Sang he softly, sang in this wise : 

"Onaway! Awake, beloved! 
Thou the wild-flower of the forest ! 
Thou the wild-bird of the prairie ! 
Thou with e^^es so soft and fawn-like ! 

"If thou only lookest at me, 
I am happy, I am happy. 
As the lilies of the prairie. 
When they feel the dew upon them ! 

"Sweet thy breath is as the fragrance 
Of the wild-flowers in the morning. 
As their fragrance is at evening, 
In the INIoon when leaves are falling. 

"Does not all the blood within me 
Leap to meet thee, leap to meet thee, 
As the springs to meet the sunshine, 
In the JNIoon when nights are brightest ? 

"OnaAvay! my heart sings to thee, 
107 





The Song of Hiawatha 

Sings with joy when thou are near me, 

As the sighing, singing hranches 

In the pleasant Moon of Strawberries i 

"When thou are not pleased, beloved. 
Then my heart is sad and darkened, 
As the shining river darkens 
When the clouds drop shadows on it! 

"When thou smilest, my beloved, 
Then my troubled heart is brightened, 
As in sunshine gleam the ripples 
That the cold wind makes in rivers. 

"Smiles the earth, and smile the waters, 
Smile the cloudless skies above us, 
But I lose the way of smiling 
When thou art no longer near me 1 

"I myself, myself! behold me! 
Blood of my beating heart, behold me ! 
O awake, awake, beloved! 
Onaway! awake, beloved!" 

Thus the gentle Chibiabos 
Sang his song of love and longing; 
And lagoo, the great boaster, 
He the marvellous story-teller. 
He the friend of old Nokomis, 
Jealous of the sweet musician. 
Jealous of the applause they gave him. 
Saw in all the eyes around him, 
Saw in all their looks and gestures, 
That the wedding guests assembled 
Longed to hear his pleasant stories. 
His immeasurable falsehoods. 

Very boastful was lagoo ; 
Never heard he an adventure 
108 



( 



Hiawatha s Wedding-Feast 

But himself had met a greater ; 
Never any deed of daring 
But himself had done a bolder ; 
Never any marvellous story 
But himself could tell a stranger. 

Would you listen to his boasting, 
Would you only give him credence, 
No one ever shot an arrow 
Half so far and high as he had ; 
Ever caught so many fishes, 
Ever killed so many reindeer, 
Ever trapped so many beaver! 

None could run so fast as he could, 
None could dive so deep as he could, 
None could swim so far as he could ; 
None had made so many journeys. 
None had seen so many wonders. 
As this wonderful lagoo. 
As this marvellous story-teller! 

Thus his name became a by-word 
And a jest among the people; 
And whene'er a boastful hunter 
Praised his own address too highly, 
Or a warrior, home returning, 
Talked too much of his achievements. 
All his hearers cried, "lagoo! 
Here's lagoo come among us!" 

He it was who carved the cradle 
Of the little Hiawatha, 
Carved its framework out of linden. 
Bound it strong with reindeer sinews ; 
He it was who taught him later 
How to make his bows and arrows, 
J.Q9 ^ 






The Song of Hiawatha 

How to make the bows of ash-tree, 
And the arrows of the oak-tree. 
So among the guests assembled 
At my Hiawatha's wedding 
Sat lagoo, old and ugly, 
Sat the marvellous story-teller. 

And they said, "O good lagoo. 
Tell us now a tale of wonder, 
Tell us of some strange adventure, 
That the feast may be more joyous. 
That the time may pass more gayly, 
And our guests be more contented!" 

And lagoo answered straightway, 
''You shall hear a tale of wonder, 
You shall hear the strange adventures 
Of Osseo, the Magician, 
From the Evening Star descended." 

XII 

THE SON OF THE EVENING STAR 

Can it be the sun descending 
O'er the level plain of water? 
Or the Red Swan floating, flying, 
Wounded by the magic arrow, 
Staining all the waves with crimson. 
With the crimson of its life-blood. 
Filling all the air with splendor. 
With the splendor of its plumage? 

Yes ; it is the sun descending. 
Sinking down into the water ; 
All the sky is stained with purple, 
All the water flushed with crimson ! 
110 



'■%. 



The Son of the Evening Star 

No ; it is the Red Swan floating, 

Diving down beneath the water ; 

To the sky its wings are hf ted, 

With its blood the waves are reddened! 

Over it the Star of Evening 
jNIelts and trembles through the purple. 
Hangs suspended in the twilight. 
No ; it is a bead of wampum 
On the robes of the Great Spirit, 
As he passes through the twilight, 
Walks in silence through the heavens. 

This with joy beheld lagoo 
And he said in haste : "Behold it ! 
See the sacred Star of Evening! 
You shall hear a tale of wonder. 
Hear the story of Osseo ! 
Son of the Evening Star, Osseo ! 

"Once, in days no more remembered, 
Ages nearer the beginning, 
When the heavens were closer to us, 
And the Gods were more familiar, 
In the North-land lived a hunter, 
With ten young and comely daughters, 
Tall and lithe as wands of willow ; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest. 
She the wilful and the wayward, 
She the silent, dreamy maiden, 
Was the fairest of the sisters. 

"All these women married warriors. 
Married brave and haughty husbands ; 
Only Oweenee, the youngest. 
Laughed and flouted all her lovers, 
All her young and handsome suitors, 
111 



The Song uf Hiawatha 

And then married old Osseo, 

Old Osseo, poor and ugly, 

Broken with age and weak with coughing. 

Always coughing like a squirrel. 

"All, hut heautiful within him 
Was the spirit of Osseo, 
From the Evening Star descended. 
Star of Evening, Star of Woman, 
Star of tenderness and passion! 
All its fire was in his bosom 
All its beauty in his spirit. 
All its mystery in his being, 
All its splendor in his language ! 

"And her lovers, the rejected. 
Handsome men with belts of wampum. 
Handsome men with paint and feathers. 
Pointed at her in derision, 
Followed her with jest and laughter. 
But she said: 'I care not for you, 
Care not for your belts of wampum. 
Care not for your paint and feathers. 
Care not for your jest and laughter; 
I am happy with Osseo !' 

"Once to some great feast invited. 
Through the damp and dusk of evening 
Walked together the ten sisters, 
Walked together with their husbands ; 
Slowly followed old Osseo, 
With fair Oweenee beside him ; 
All the others chatted gayly. 
These two only walked in silence. 

"At the western sky Osseo 
Gazed intent, as if imploring, 



v^i:? 




The Son of the Evening Stat 

Often stopped and gazed imploring 
At the trembling Star of Evening, 
At the tender Star of Woman ; 
And they heard him murmur softly, 
'Ah, showain nemeshin, Nosa! 
Pity, pity me, my father !' 

" 'Listen!' said the elder sister, 
'He is praying to his father! 
What a pity that the old man 
Does not stumble in the pathway. 
Does not break his neck by falling !' 
And they laughed till all the forest 
Rang with their unseemly laughter. 

"On their pathway through the wood- 
lands 
Lay an oak, by storms uprooted. 
Lay the great trunk of an oak-tree, 
Buried half in leaves and mosses, 
JNIouldering, crumbling, huge and hollow, 
And Osseo, w^hen he saw it. 
Gave a shout, a cry of anguish, 
Leaped into its yawning cavern, 
At one end went in an old man, 
Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly ; 
From the other came a young man, 
Tall and straight and strong and hand- 
some. 

"Thus Osseo was transfigured, 
Thus restored to youth and beauty ; 
But, alas for good Osseo, 
And for Oweenee, the faithful! 
Strangely, too, was she transfigured. 
Changed into a weak old woman, 
113 




I 



The Song of Hiawatha 

With a staff she tottered onward. 
Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly! 
And the sisters and their husbands 
Laughed until the echoing forest 
Rang with their unseemly laughter. 

"But Osseo turned not from her, 
Walked with slower step beside her. 
Took her hand, as brown and withered 
As an oak-leaf is in winter, 
Called her sweetheart, Xenemoosha, 
Soothed her with soft words of kindness. 
Till they reached the lodge of feasting. 
Till they sat down in the wigwam, 
Sacred to the Star of Evening, 
To the tender Star of Woman. 

"Wrapt in visions, lost in dreaming. 
At the banquet sat Osseo ; 
All were merry, all were happy. 
All were joyous but Osseo. 
Xeither food nor drink he tasted, 
Neither did he speak nor listen. 
But as one bewildered sat he, 
Looking dreamily and sadly, 
First at Oweenee, then upward 
At the gleaming sky above them. 

"Then a voice was heard, a whisper. 
Coming from the starry distance. 
Coming from the empty vastness. 
Low, and musical, and tender; 
And the voice said: 'O Osseo! 
O my son, my best beloved ! 
Broken are the spells that bound you. 
All the charms of the magicians, 
114 



"^h 



¥ 



\£^ 




.g Star 




The Son of the Eve?ii?h 

All the magic powers of evil; 
Come to me ; ascend, Osseo ! 

" 'Taste the food that stands before you 
It is blessed and enchanted, 
It has magic virtues in it, 
It will change you to a spirit. 
All your bowls and all your kettles 
Shall be w ood and clay uo jongc]- ; 
But the bowls be changed to wampum, 
And the kettles shall be silver ; 
They shall shine like shells of scarlet, 
Like the fire shall gleam and glimmer. 

" 'And the women shall no longer 
Bear the dreary doom of labor, 
But be changed to birds, and glisten 
With the beauty of the starlight, 
Painted with the dusky splendors 
Of the skies and clouds of evening!' 

"What Osseo heard as whispers, 
What as words he comprehended, 
Was but music to the others, 
JNIusic as of birds afar off. 
Of the whippoorwill afar off, 
Of the lonely Wawonaissa 
Singing in the darksome forest. 

"Then the lodge began to tremble. 
Straight began to shake and tremble, 
And they felt it rising, rising, 
Slowly through the air ascending, 
From the darkness of the tree-tops 
Forth into the dewy starlight. 
Till it passed the topmost branches; 
And behold! the wooden dishes 



^1 



r 



115 



O!^- 






/> 



/^ 



The Song of Iliatcatha 

All were changed to shells of scarlet! 
And behold ! the earthen kettles 
All were changed to bowls of silver 1 
And the roof -poles of the wigwam 
Were as glittering rods of silver, 
And the roof of bark upon them 
As the shining shards of beetles. 

"Then Osseo gazed around him, 
And he saw the nine fair sisters. 
All the sisters and their husbands, 
Changed to birds of various plumage. 
Some were jays and some were mag- 
pies, 
Others thrushes, others blackbirds ; 
And they hopped, and sang, and twit- 
tered, 
Perked and fluttered all their feathers, 
Strutted in their shining plumage. 
And their tails like fans unfolded. 

"Only Oweenee, the youngest, 
Was not changed, but sat in silence, 
Wasted, wrinkled, old, and ugly, 
Looking sadly at the others; 
Till Osseo, gazing upward. 
Gave another cry of anguish. 
Such a cry as he had uttered 
By the oak-tree in the forest. 

"Then returned her youth and beauty, 
And her soiled and tattered garments 
Were transformed to robes of ermine, 
And her staff became a feather. 
Yes, a shining silver feather! 

"And again the wigwam trembled, 
116 



Vl 



\- 




The Son of the Evening Star 

Swayed and rushed through airy cur- 
rents, 
Through transparent cloud and vapor, 
And amid celestial splendors 
On the Evening Star alighted, 
As a snow-flake falls on snow-flake. 
As a leaf drops on a river. 
As the thistle-dowTL on water. 

"Forth with cheerful words of welcome 
Came the father of Osseo, 
He with radiant locks of silver, 
He. with eyes serene and tender. 
And he said: 'My son, Osseo, 
Hang the cage of birds you bring there, 
Hang the cage with rods of silver, 
And the birds with glistening feathers. 
At the doorway of my wigwam.' 

"At the door he hung the bird-cage. 
And they entered in and gladly 
Listened to Osseo's father, 
Ruler of the Star of Evening, 
As he said: 'O my Osseo! 
I have had compassion on you, 
Given you back your youth and beauty, 
Into birds of various plumage 
Changed your sisters and their husbands; 
Changed them thus because they mocked 

you; 
In the figure of the old man, 
In that aspect sad and wrinkled, 
Could not see your heart of passion, 
Could not see your youth immortal; 
Only Oweenee, the faithful, 
117 




riBr 




The Song 



of Hiawatha 

Saw your naked heart and loved yon. 

" 'In the lodge that glimmers yonder, 
In the little star that twinkles 
Through the vapors, on the left hand, 
Lives the envious Evil Spirit, 
The Wabeno, the magician. 
Who transformed you to an old man. 
Take heed lest his beams fall on you. 
For the rays he darts around Iiirii 
Are the power of his enchantment. 
Are the arrows that he uses.' 

"^lany years, in peace and quiet. 
On the peaceful Star of Evening 
Dwelt Osseo with his father; 
JNIany years, in song and flutter. 
At the doorway of the wigwam, 
Hung the cage with rods of silver, 
And fair Oweenee, the faithful, 
Bore a son unto Osseo, 
With the beauty of his mother, 
With the courage of his father. 

"And the boy grew up and prospered, 
And Osseo, to delight him. 
Made him little bows and arrows. 
Opened the great cage of silver. 
And let loose his aunts and uncles, 
All those birds with glossy feathers. 
For his little son to shoot at. 

"Round and round they wheeled and 
darted, 
Filled the Evening Star with music, 
With their songs of joy and freedom; 
Filled the Evening Star with splendor, 
118 



', } The Son of the Evening Star ^"^ 

With the fluttering of their plumage ; 
Till the boy, the little hunter, 
Bent his bow and shot an arrow, 
Shot a swift and fatal arrow, 
And a bird, with shining feathers, 
At his feet fell wounded sorely. 

"But, O wondrous transformation! 
'T was no bird he saw before him! 
'T was a beautiful young woman. 
With the arrow in her bosom ! 

"When her blood fell on the planet, 
On the sacred Star of Evening, 
Broken was the spell of magic, 
Powerless was the strange enchantment, 
And the youth, the fearless bowman. 
Suddenly felt himself descending, 
Held by unseen hands, but sinking 
Do^\Tiward through the empty spaces, 
Downward through the clouds and vapors, 
Till he rested on an island, 
On an island, green and grassy. 
Yonder in the Big- Sea- Water. 

"After him he saw descending 
All the birds with shining feathers. 
Fluttering, falling, wafted downward. 
Like the painted leaves of Autumn : 
And the lodge with poles of silver, 
With its roof like wings of beetles, 
Like the shining shards of beetles, 
By the winds of heaven uplifted. 
Slowly sank upon the island, 
Bringing back the good Osseo, 
Bringing Oweenee, the faithful. 
119 





The Song of Hiatcatha 

"Then the birds, again transfigured, 
lleassumed the shape of mortals, 
Took their shape, but not their stature ; 
They remained as Little People, 
Like the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies, 
And on pleasant nights of Summer, 
When the Evening Star was shining, 
Hand in hand they danced together 
On the island's craggy headlands, 
On the sand-beach low and level. 

"Still their glittering lodge is seen there, 
On the tranquil Summer evenings. 
And upon the shore the fisher 
Sometimes hears their happy voices. 
Sees them dancing in the starlight!" 

When the story was completed. 
When the wondrous tale was ended. 
Looking round upon his listeners. 
Solemnly lagoo added : 
"There are great men, I have known such, 
Whom their people understand not. 
Whom they even make a jest of. 
Scoff and jeer at in derision. 
From the story of Osseo 
Let us learn the fate of jesters!' 

All the wedding guests delighted 
Listened to the marvellous story. 
Listened laughing and applauding. 
And they whispered to each other: 
"Does he mean himself, I wonder? 
And are we the aunts and uncles?" 

Then again sang Chibiabos, 
Sang a song of love and longing, 
120 



i \\! 




M' 



The Son of the Evening Star 

In those accents sweet and tender, 
In those tones of pensive sadness, 
Sang a maiden's lamentation 
For her lover, her Algonquin. 

"When I think of my beloved. 
Ah me ! think of my beloved. 
When my heart is thinking of him, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"Ah me! when I parted from him, 
Round my neck he hung the wampum. 
As a pledge, the snow-white wampum, 
O.my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"I will go with you, he whispered. 
All me ! to your native country ; 
Let me go with you, he whispered, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"Far away, away, I answered, 
Very far away, I answered. 
Ah me ! is my native country, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"When I looked back to behold him. 
Where we parted, to behold him, 
After me he still was gazing, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"By the tree he still was standing, 
By the fallen tree was standing, 
That had dropped into the w^ater, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin! 

"When I think of my beloved. 
All me ! think of my beloved. 
When my heart is thinking of him, 
O my sweetheart, my Algonquin!" 

Such was Hiawatha's Wedding, 
121 




The Song of Hiawatha 

Such the dance of Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Such the story of lagoo, 
Such the songs of Chibiabos; 
Thus the wedding banquet ended, 
And the wedding guests departed, 
Leaving Hiawatha happy 
With the night and Minnehaha. 



A 



./^ 



^ 



XIII 

BLESSING THP: CORN-FIELDS 

SiNG^ O Song of Hiawatha, 

Of the happy days that followed, 

In the land of the Ojibways, 

In the pleasant land and peaceful ! 

Sing the mysteries of Mondamin, 

Sing the Blessing of the Corn-fields ! 

Buried was the bloody hatchet, 
Buried was the dreadful war-club, 
Buried were all warlike weapons. 
And the war-cry was forgotten. 
There was peace among the nations; 
Unmolested roved the hunters. 
Built the birch canoe for sailing, 
Caught the fish in lake and river, 
Shot the deer and trapped the beaver ; 
Unmolested worked the women. 
Made their sugar from the maple, 
Gathered wild rice in the meadows. 
Dressed the skins of deer and beaver. 

All around the happy village 
Stood the maize-fields green and shining, 
Waved the green plumes of Mondamin, 
122 



feCjv; 




Blessing the Corn-Fields %^ 

Waved his soft and sunny tresses, 
Filling all the land with plenty. 
'T was the women who in Spring-time 
Planted the broad fields and fruitful, 
Buried in the earth JNIondamin ; 
'T was the women who in Autumn 
Stripped the yellow husks of harvest. 
Stripped the garments from ^Nlondamin, 
Even as Hiawatha taught them. 

Once, when all the maize was planted, 
Hiawatha, wise and thoughtful, 
Sj^ake and said to JNIinnehaha, 
To his wife, the Laughing Water: 
*'You shall bless to-night the corn-fields. 
Draw a magic circle round them. 
To protect them from destruction. 
Blast of mildew, blight of insect, 
Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields, 
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear! 

"In the night, when all is silence, 
In the night, when all is darkness. 
When the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, 
Shuts the doors of all the wigwams, 
So that not an ear can hear you, 
So that not an eye can see you. 
Rise up from your bed in silence. 
Lay aside your garments wholly, 
Walk around the fields you planted. 
Round the borders of the corn-fields. 
Covered by your tresses only. 
Robed with darkness as a garment. 

"Thus the fields shall be more fruitful. 
And the passing of your footsteps 
123 




The Song of Iliaucatha 

Draw a magic circle round them, 
So that neither bhght nor mildew, 
Neither burrowing worm nor insect, 
Shall pass o'er the magic circle; 
Not the dragon-fly, Kwo-ne-she, 
Nor the spider, Subbekashe, 
Nor the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena, 
Nor the mighty caterpillar, 
Way-muk-kwana, with the bear-skin, 
King of all the caterpillars!" 

On the tree-tops near the corn-fields 
Sat the hungry crows and ravens, 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
With his band of black marauders. 
And they laughed at Hiawatha, 
Till the tree-tops shook with laughter, 
With their melancholy laughter 
At the words of Hiawatha. 
"Hear him!" said they; "hear the Wise 

Man, 
Hear the plots of Hiawatha!" 

When the noiseless night descended 
Broad and dark o'er field and forest. 
When the mournful Wawonaissa 
Sorrowing sang among the hemlocks, 
And the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, 
Shut the doors of all the wigwams, 
From her bed rose Laughing Water, 
Laid aside her garments wholly. 
And with darkness clothed and guarded, 
Unashamed and unaffrighted, 
Walked securely round the corn-fields, 
Drew the sacred, magic circle 
124 



(, w. 



\!a } Blessing the Corn-Flelds 

Of her footprints round the corn-fields. 

No one but the JMidnight only 
Saw her beauty in the darkness, 
No one but the Wawonaissa 
Heard the panting of her bosom; 
Guskewau, the darkness, wrapped her 
Closely in his sacred mantle, 
So that none might see her beauty. 
So that none might boast, "I saw her! 

On the morrow, as the day dawned, 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
Gathered all his black marauders, 
Crows and blackbirds, jays and ravens. 
Clamorous on the dusky tree-tops. 
And descended, fast and fearless, 
On the fields of Hiawatha, 
On the grave of the JNIondamin. 

"We will drag ^londamin," said they, 
"From the grave where he is buried. 
Spite of all the magic circles 
Laughing Water draws around it. 
Spite of all the sacred footprints 
^linnehaha stamps upon it!" 

But the wary Hiawatha, 
Ever thoughtful, careful, watchful, 
Had o'erheard the scornful laughter 
When they mocked him from the 

tops. 
"Kaw!" he said, "my friends the ravens! 
Kahgahgee, my King of Ravens ! 
I will teach you all a lesson 
That shall not be soon forgotten!" 

He had risen before the daybreak, 
125 




L 



:^)^ 



^^ 




The So tig of Hiawatha 

He had spread o'er all the corn-fields 
Snares to catch the black marauders, 
And was lying now in ambush 
In the neighboring" grove of pine-trees, 
Waiting for the crows and blackbirds. 
Waiting for the jays and ravens. 

Soon they came with caw and clamor, 
Rush of wings and cry of voices. 
To their work of devastation, 
Settling down upon the corn-helds, 
Delving deep with beak and talon, 
For the body of jNIondamin. 
And with all their craft and cunning. 
All their skill in wiles of warfare. 
They perceived no danger near them. 
Till their claws became entangled. 
Till they found themselves imprisoned 
In the snares of Hiawatha. 

From his place of ambush came he. 
Striding terrible among them, 
And so awful was his aspect 
That the bravest quailed with terror. 
Without mercy he destroyed them 
Right and left, by tens and twenties. 
And their wretched, lifeless bodies 
Hung aloft on poles for scarecrows 
Round the consecrated corn-fields. 
As a signal of his vengeance. 
As a warning to marauders. 

Only Kahgahgee, the leader, 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
He alone was spared among them 
As a hostage for his people. 
126 




Blessing the Corn-Fields 

With his prisoner-string he bound him, 
Led him captive to his wigwam, 
Tied him fast with cords of elm-bark 
To the ridge-pole of his wigwam. 

"Kahgahgee, my raven!" said he, 
"You the leader of the robbers, 
You the plotter of this mischief. 
The contriver of this outrage, 
I will keej) you, I will hold you. 
As a hostage for your people. 
As a pledge of good behavior!" 

And he left him, grim and sulky. 
Sitting in the morning sunshine 
On the summit of the wigwam. 
Croaking fiercely his displeasure, 
Flapj)ing his great sable pinions, 
Vainly struggling for his freedom. 
Vainly calling on his people! 

Summer passed, and Shawondasee 
Breathed his sighs o'er all the landscape. 
From the South-land sent his ardors, 
Wafted kisses w arm and tender ; 
And the maize-field grew and ripened. 
Till it stood in all the splendor 
Of its garments green and yellow. 
Of its tassels and its plumage. 
And the maize-ears full and shining 
Gleamed from bursting sheaths of ver- 
dure. 

Then Nokomis, the old woman, 
Spake, and said to JNIinnehaha: 
" 'T is the Moon when leaves are falling; 
All the wild-rice has been gathered, 
127 






Mt 



r 




'-^ 




The Song of Hiawatha 

And the maize is ripe and ready; 
Let us gather in the harvest, 
Let us wrestle with Mondamin, 
Strip him of his pkimes and tassels, 
Of his garments green and yellow!" 

And the merry Laughing Water 
Went rejoicing from the wigwam, 
With Xokomis, old and wrinkled, 
And they called the women round them, 
Called the young men and the maidens, 
To the harvest of the corn-fields, 
To the husking of the maize-ear. 

On the border of the forest, 
Underneath the fragrant pine-trees. 
Sat the old men and the warriors 
Smoking in the pleasant shadow. 
In uninterrupted silence 
Looked they at the gamesome labor 
Of the young men and the women ; 
Listened to their noisy talking, 
To their laughter and their singing. 
Heard them chattering like the magpies. 
Heard them laughing like the blue- jays. 
Heard them singing like the robins. 

And whene'er some lucky maiden 
Found a red ear in the husking. 
Found a maize-ear red as blood is, 
"Xushka!" cried they all together, 
"Nushka! you shall have a sweetheart, 
You shall have a handsome liusband!" 
"LTgh!" the old men all responded. 
From their seats beneath the pine-trees. 

And whene'er a j^outh or maiden 
128 





Blessing the Corn-Fields 

Found a crooked ear in husking, 
Found a maize-ear in the husking 
Bhghted, mildewed, or misshapen. 
Then they laughed and sang together, 
Crept and limped about the corn-fields, 
^limicked in their gait and gestures 
Some old man, bent almost double, 
Singing singly or together: 
"Wagemin, the thief of corn-fields! 
Paimosaid, who steals the maize-ear!" 

Till the corn-fields rang with laughter, 
Till from Hiawatha's wigwam 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
Screamed and quivered in his anger, 
And from all the neighboring tree-tops 
Cawed and croaked the black marauders. 
"Ugh!" the old men all responded, 
From their seats beneath the pine-trees! 

XIV 

PICTURE-WRITING 

In those days said Hiawatha, 
"Lo! how all things fade and perish! 
From the memory of the old men 
Pass away the great traditions. 
The achievements of the warriors, 
The adventures of the hunters, 
All the wisdom of the Medas, 
All the craft of the Wabenos, 
All the marvellous dreams and visions 
Of the Jossakeeds, the Prophets! 
"Great men die and are forgotten, 
129 




I 



x^ 



The Song of Hiawatha 

Wise men speak; their words of wisdom 

Perish in the ears that hear them, 

Do not reach the generations 

That, as yet unborn, are waiting 

In the great, mysterious darkness 

Of the speechless days that shall be ! 

"On the grave-posts of our fathers 
Are no signs, no figures painted; 
Who are in those graves we know not, 
Only know they are our fathers. 
Of what kith they are and kindred. 
From what old, ancestral Totem, 
Be it Eagle, Bear or Beaver, 
They descended, this we know not. 
Only know they are our fathers. 

"Face to face we speak together. 
But we cannot speak when absent. 
Cannot send our voices from us 
To the friends that dwell afar off; 
Cannot send a secret message. 
But the bearer learns our secret. 
May pervert it, may betraj^ it. 
May reveal it unto others." 

Thus said Hiawatha, walking 
In the solitary forest, 
Pondering, musing in the forest. 
On the welfare of his peojDle. 

From his pouch he took his colors. 
Took his paints of different colors. 
On the smooth bark of a birch-tree 
Painted many shapes and figures. 
Wonderful and mystic figures. 
And each figure had a meaning. 



'^: 



v 




If 




Picture- Writing 

Each some word or thought suggested. 

Gitche JVIanito the JNIighty, 
He, the Master of Life, was painted 
As an egg, with points projecting 
To the four winds of the heavens. 
Everywhere is the Great Spirit, 
Was the meaning of this symbol. 

JNIitche JVIanito the JNIighty, 
He the dreadful Spirit of Evil, 
As a serpent was depicted, 
As Kenabeek, the great serpent. 
Very crafty, very cunning, 
Is the creeping Spirit of Evil, 
Was the meaning of this symbol. 

Life and Death he drew as circles, 
Life was white, but Death was darkened; 
Sun and moon and stars he painted, 
]VIan and beast, and fish and reptile. 
Forests, mountains, lakes, and rivers. 

For the earth he drew a straight line. 
For the sky a bow above it; 
White the space between for day-time, 
Filled with little stars for night-time; 
On the left a point for sunrise. 
On the right a point for sunset, 
On the top a point for noontide. 
And for rain and cloudy weather 
Waving lines descending from it. 

Footprints pointing towards a wigwam 
Were a sign of invitation, 
Were a sign of guests assembling ; 
Bloody hands with palms uplifted 
Were a symbol of destruction, 
131 






The Song of Hiawatha 

Were a hostile sign and symbol. 

All these things did Hiawatha 
Show unto his wondering people, 
And interpreted their meaning, 
And he said: "Behold, your grave-posts 
Have no mark, no sign, nor symbol. 
Go and paint them all v>ith figures; 
Each one with its household symbol. 
With its own ancestral Totem; 
So that those who follow after 
May distinguish them and know them." 

And they painted on the grave-posts 
On the graves yet unf orgotten. 
Each his own ancestral Totem, 
Each the symbol of his household ; 
Figures of the Bear and Reindeer, 
Of the Turtle, Crane, and Beaver, 
Each inverted, as a token 
That the owner was departed. 
That the chief who bore the symbol 
Lay beneath in dust and ashes. 

And the Jossakeeds, the Prophets, 
The Wabenos, the Magicians, 
And the Medicine-men, the ^ledas, 
Painted upon bark and deer-skin 
Figures for the songs the}^ chanted. 
For each song a separate symbol, 
Figures mystical and awful. 
Figures strange and brightly colored; 
And each figure had its meaning, 
Each some magic song suggested. 

The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
Flashing light through all the heaven; 




r>.^. 




Ml 



Fict u re- Writing -^^ 

The Great Serpent, the Kenabeek. 
With his bloody crest erected, 
Creeping, looking into heaven ; 
In the sky the sun, that glistens, 
And the moon eclipsed and dying ; 
Owl and eagle, crane and hen-hawk. 
And the cormorant, bird of magic ; 
Headless men, that walk the heavens, 
Bodies lying pierced with arrows. 
Bloody hands of death uplifted. 
Flags on graves, and great war-captains 
Grasping both the earth and heaven ! 

Such as these the shapes they painted 
On the birch-bark and the deer-skin; 
Songs of war and songs of hunting. 
Songs of medicine and of magic. 
All were written in these figures, 
For each figure had its meaning, 
Each its separate song recorded. 

Nor forgotten was the Love- Song, 
The most subtle of all medicines. 
The most potent spell of magic, 
Dangerous more than war or huntins" ! 
Thus the Love- Song was recorded. 
Symbol and interpretation. 

First a human figure standing 
Painted in the brightest scarlet; 
'T is the lover, the musician, 
And the meaning is, "INIy painting 
]Makes me powerful over others." 

Then the figure seated, singing. 
Playing on a drum of magic, 
And the interpretation, "Listen! 
133 





(^•i^ The Song of Hiaxcatha 

Tis my voice you hear, my singing!" 

riien the same red figure seated 
In the shelter of a wigwam, 
And the meaning of the symbol, 
"I will come and sit beside you 
In the mystery of my passion!" 

Then two figures, man and woman, 
Standing hand in hand together 
With their hands so clasped together 
That they seem in one united. 
And the words thus re23resented 
Are, "I see your heart within you, 
And your cheeks are red with blushes!" 

Next the maiden on an island, 
In the centre of an island; 
And the song this shape suggested 
Was, "Though you were at a distance. 
Were upon some far-off island. 
Such the spell I cast upon you. 
Such the magic power of passion, 
I could straightway draw you to me!" 

Then the figure of the maiden 
Sleeping, and the lover near her. 
Whispering to her in her slumbers. 
Saying, "Though you were far from me 
In the land of Sleep and Silence, 
Still the voice of love would reach you!" 

And the last of all the figures 
Was a heart within a circle. 
Drawn within a magic circle ; 
And the image had this meaning : 
"Naked hes your heart before me. 
To your naked heart I whisper!" 
134 



The Song of Iliaicatha 

Thus it was that Hiawatha, 
111 his wisdom, taught the people 
All the mysteries of painting, 
All the art of Picture- Writing, 
On the smooth bark of the birch- tree, 
On the white skin of the reindeer. 
On the grave-posts of the village. 



^/ 



XV 

Hiawatha's lamentation 

In those days the Evil Spirits, 
All the Manitos of mischief, 
Fearing Hiawatha's wisdom. 
And his love for Chibiabos, 
Jealous of their faithful friendship, 
And their noble words and actions, 
Made at length a league against them. 
To molest them and destroy them. 

Hiawatha, wdse and wary. 
Often said to Chibiabos, 
"O my brother! do not leave me, 
Lest the Evil Spirits harm you!" 
Chibiabos, young and heedless, 
Laughing shook his coal-black tresses. 
Answered ever sw^eet and childlike, 
"Do not fear for me, O brother! 
Harm and evil come not near me!'* 

Once when Peboan, the Winter, 
Roofed with ice the Big- Sea- Water, 
When the snow-flakes, whirling down- 
ward, 
Hissed among the withered oak-leaves, 
136 



w 



Hiawatha s Lameiitation ^"^ 

Changed the pine-trees into wigwams, 
Covered all the earth with silence, — 
Armed with arrows, shod with snow-shoes, 
Heeding not his brother's warning, 
Fearing not the Evil Spirits, 
Forth to hunt the deer with antlers 
All alone went Chibiabos. 

Right across the Big- Sea- Water 
Sprang with speed the deer before him. 
With the wind and snow he followed, 
O'er the treacherous ice he followed. 
Wild with all the fierce commotion 
And the rapture of the hunting. 

But beneath, the Evil Spirits 
Lay in ambush, waiting for him, 
Broke the treacherous ice beneath him. 
Dragged him downward to the bottom. 
Buried in the sand his body. 
Unktahee, the god of water. 
He the god of the Dacotahs, 
Drowned him in the deep abysses 
Of the lake of Gitche Gumee. 

From the headlands Hiawatha 
Sent forth such a wail of anguish. 
Such a fearful lamentation. 
That the bison paused to listen, 
And the wolves howled from the prairies. 
And the thunder in the distance 
Starting answered "Baim-wawa!" 

Then his face with black he painted. 
With his robe his head he covered. 
In his wigwam sat lamenting, 
Seven long weeks he sat lamenting, 
137 



^-C5 






'■'Jf^ The Song of Hiazvatha 

Uttering still this moan of sorrow :— 

''He is dead, the sweet musician! 
He the sweetest of all singers ! 
He has gone from us forever, 
He has moved a little nearer 
To the Master of all music. 
To the ]\Iaster of all singing ! 
O my brother, Chibiabos!" 

And the melancholy fir-trees 
Waved their dark green fans above him, 
Waved their purple cones above him, 
Sighing with him to console him, 
JNIingling with his lamentation 
Their complaining, their lamenting. 

Came the Spring, and all the forest 
Looked in vain for Chibiabos ; 
Sighed the rivulet, Sebowisha, 
Sighed the rushes in the meadow. 

From the tree-tops sang the bluebird, 
Sang the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
He is dead, the sweet musician!" 

From the wigwam sang the robin. 
Sang the robin, tlie Opechee, 
' ' Chibiabos ! Chibiabos ! 
He is dead, the sweetest singer!" 

And at night through all the forest 
Went the whippoorwdll complaining, 
Wailing went the Wawonaissa, 
"Chibiabos! Chibiabos! 
He is dead, the sweet musician! 
He the sweetest of all singers!" 

Then the medicine-men, the ]\Iedas, 
138 



' s 



Hiawatha s Lamentation 

The magicians, the Wabenos, 
And the Jossakeeds, the prophets, 
Came to visit Hiawatha ; 
Built a Sacred Lodge beside him, 
To appease him, to console him. 
Walked in silent, grave procession, 
Bearing each a pouch of healing, 
Skin of beaver, lynx, or otter. 
Filled with magic roots and simples, 
Filled with very potent medicines. 

When he heard their steps approaching, 
Hiawatha ceased lamenting, 
Called no more on Chibiabos ; 
Naught he questioned, naught lie 

swered. 
But his mournful head uncovered. 
From his face the mourning colors 
Washed he slowly and in silence, 
Slowly and in silence followed 
Onward to the Sacred Wigwam. 

There a magic drink they gave him. 
Made of Nahma-wusk, the spearmint. 
And Wabeno-wusk, the yarrow, 
Roots of power, and herbs of healing; 
Beat their drums, and shook their rattles ; 
Chanted singly and in chorus, 
JNlystic songs, like these, they chanted. 

"I myself, myself! behold me! 
'T is the great Gray Eagle talking; 
Come, ye white crows, come and hear him! 
The loud-speaking thunder helps me ; 
All the unseen spirits help me; 
I can hear their voices calling, 
139 





The Song of Hiawatha 

All around the sky I hear them! 
I can blow you strong, my brother, 
I can heal you, Hiawatha!" 

"Hi-au-ha!" replied the chorus, 
" Way-ha-way !" the m^^stic chorus. 

^'Friends of mine are all the serpents! 
Hear me shake my skin of hen-hawk ! 
JNIahng, the w hite loon, I can kill him ; 
I can shoot your heart and kill it ! 
I can blow you strong, my brother, 
I can heal you, Hiawatha!" 

"Hi-au-ha!' replied the chorus, 
"Way-ha-way!" the mystic chorus. 

"I myself, myself! the prophet! 
When I speak the wigwam trembles. 
Shakes the Sacred Lodge with terror. 
Hands unseen begin to shake it ! 
When I walk, the sky I tread on 
Bends and makes a noise beneath me ! 
I can blow you strong, my brother ! 
Rise and S23eak, O Hiawatha!" 

"Hi-au-ha!" replied the chorus, 
"Way-ha-way!" the^ mystic chorus. 

Then they shook their medicine-pouches 
O'er the head of Hiawatha, 
Danced their medicine-dance around him; 
And upstarting wild and haggard, 
Like a man from dreams awakened. 
He was healed of all his madness. 
As the clouds are swept from heaven, 
Straightway from his brain departed 
All his moody melancholy; 
As the ice is swept from rivers, 
140 



\f 




The Song of Hiawatha 

Straightway from his heart departed 
All his sorrow and affliction. 

Then they summoned Chibiabos 
From his grave beneath the waters, 
From the sands of Gitche Gumee 
Summoned Hiawatha's brother. 
And so mighty was the magic 
Of that cry and invocation, 
That he heard it as he lay there 
Underneath the Big- Sea- Water; 
From the sand he rose and listened, 
Heard the music and the singing, 
Came, obedient to the summons. 
To the doorway of the wigwam. 
But to enter they forbade him. 

Through a chink a coal they ga^^e him. 
Through the door a burning fire-brand; 
Ruler in the Land of Spirits, 
Ruler o'er the dead, they made him, 
Telling him a fire to kindle 
For all those that died thereafter, 
Camp-fires for their night encampments 
On their solitary journey 
To the kingdom of Ponemah, 
To the land of the Hereafter. 

From the village of his childhood, 
From the homes of those who knew him, 
Passing silent through the forest, 
Like a smoke-wreath wafted sideways. 
Slowly vanished Chibiabos ! 
Where he passed, the branches moved not, 
Where he trod, the grasses bent not. 
And the fallen leaves of last year 
142 



V^ 




} Hiawatha s Lamentation 

Made no sound beneath his footsteps. 

Four whole days he journeyed onward 
Down the pathway of the dead men ; 
On the dead man's strawberry feasted, 
Crossed the melancholy river, 
On the swinging log he crossed it, — 
Came unto the Lake of Silver, 
In the Stone Canoe was carried 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the land of ghosts and shadows. 

On that journey, moving slowly, 
JNIaily weary spirits saw he. 
Panting under heavy burdens. 
Laden with war-clubs, bows and arrows. 
Robes of fur, and pots and kettles, 
And with food that friends had given 
For that solitary journey. 

"Ay! why do the living," said they, 
"Lay such heavy burdens on us! 
Better were it to go naked. 
Better were it to go fasting, 
Than to bear such heavy burdens 
On our long and weary journey!" 

Forth then issued Hiawatha, 
Wandered eastward, wandered westward. 
Teaching men the use of simples 
And the antidotes for poisons. 
And the cure of all diseases. 
Thus was first made known to mortals 
All the mystery of IMedamin, 
All the sacred art of healing. 





The Song of Hiawatha 
XVI 

PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

You shall hear how Pau-Puk-Keewis 
He, the handsome Yenadizze, 
Whom the people called the Storm Fool, 
Vexed the village with disturbance; 
You shall hear of all his mischief, 
And his flight from Hiawatha, 
And his wondrous transmigrations, 
And the end of his adventures. 

On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, 
By the shining Big- Sea- Water 
Stood the lodge of Pau-Puk-Keewis. 
It was he who in his frenzy 
Whirled these drifting sands together. 
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo, 
When, among the guests assembled, 
He so merrily and madly 
Danced at Hiawatha's wedding. 
Danced the Beggar's Dance to please 
them. 

Now, in search of new adventures, 
From his lodge went Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Came with speed into the village, 
Found the young men all assembled 
In the lodge of old lagoo. 
Listening to his monstrous stories. 
To his wonderful adventures. 

He was telling them the story 
Of Ojeeg, the Summer-JNIaker, 
How he made a hole in heaven, 
How he climbed up into heaven. 



Pau-Puk-Keewis 

And let out the summer-weather, 
The perpetual, pleasant Summer ; 
How the Otter first essayed it; 
How the Beaver, Lynx, and Badger 
Tried in turn the great achievement, 
From the summit of the mountain 
Smote their fists against the heavens. 
Smote against the sky their foreheads, 
Cracked the sky, but could not break it ; 
How the Wolverine, uprising. 
Made him ready for the encounter. 
Bent his knees down, like a squirrel, 
Drew his arms back, like a cricket. 

"Once he leaped," said old lagoo, 
"Once he leaped, and lo! above him 
Bent the sky, as ice in rivers 
When the waters rise beneath it; 
Twice he leaped, and lo ! above him 
Cracked the sky, as ice in rivers 
When the freshet is at highest ! 
Thrice he leaped, and lo! above him 
Broke the shattered sky asunder, 
And he disappeared within it, 
And Ojeeg, the Fisher Weasel, 
With a bound went in behind him!" 

"Hark you!" shouted Pau-Puk-Keewis 
As he entered at the doorway; 
"I am tired of all this talking, 
Tired of old lagoo's stories. 
Tired of Hiawatha's wisdom. 
Here is something to amuse you. 
Better than this endless talking." 

Then from out his pouch of wolf -skin 
145 





Tlie Song of Hiawatha 

Forth he drew, with solemn manner, 
All the game of Bowl and Counters, 
Pugasaing, with thirteen pieces. 
White on one side were they painted. 
And vermilion on the other; 
Two Kenabeeks or great serpents. 
Two Ininewug or wedge-men, 
One great war-club, Pugamaugr.n, 
And one slender fish, the Keego, 
Four round pieces, Ozawabeeks, 
And three Sheshebwug or ducklings. 
All were made of bone and painted, 
All except the Ozawabeeks ; 
These were brass, on one side burnished, 
And were black upon the other. 

In a wooden bowl he placed them. 
Shook and jostled them together, 
Threw them on the ground before him. 
Thus exclaiming and explaining: 
"Red side up are all the pieces. 
And one great Kenabeek standing 
On the bright side of a brass piece. 
On a burnished Ozawabeek; 
Thirteen tens and eight are counted." 

Then again he shook the pieces, 
Shook and jostled them together, 
Threw them on the ground before him. 
Still exclaiming and explaining: 
"White are both the great Kenabeeks, 
White the Ininewug, the wedge-men. 
Red are all the other pieces ; 
Five tens and an eight are counted." 

Thus he taught the game of hazard, 
146 



Pau-Puk-Keetcis 

Thus displayed it and explained it, 
Running through its various chances, 
Various changes, various meanings; 
Twenty curious eyes stared at him. 
Full of eagerness stared at him. 

"Many games," said old lagoo, 
"Many games of skill and hazard 
Have I seen in different nations, 
Have I played in different countries. 
He who plays wdth old lagoo 
JMust have very nimble fingers; 
Though you think yourself so skilful 
I can beat you, Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
I can even give you lessons 
In your game of Bowl and Counters!" 

So they sat and played together. 
All the old men and the young men. 
Played for dresses, weaj)ons, wampum, 
Played till midnight, played till morning, 
Played until the Yenadizze, 
Till the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Of their treasures had despoiled them, 
Of the best of all their dresses. 
Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine, 
Belts of wampum, crests of feathers, 
Warlike weapons, pipes and pouches. 
Twenty eyes glared wildly at him, 
Like the eyes of wolves glared at him. 

Said the lucky Pau-Puk-Keewis: 
"In my wigwam I am lonely, 
In my wanderings and adventures 
I have need of a companion, 
Fain would have a ^leshinauwa, 
147 






The Song^ of Hiawatha 

An attendant and pipe-bearer. 
I will venture all these winnings, 
All these garments heaped about me, 
All this wampum, all these feathers. 
On a single throw wdll venture 
All against the young man yonder!" 
'T was a j^outh of sixteen summers, 
'T was a nephew of lagoo; 
Face-in-a-jNlist, the people called him. 

As the fire burns in a pipe-head 
Dusky red beneath the ashes. 
So beneath his shaggy ej^ebrows 
Glowed the eyes of old lagoo. 
"Ugh!" he answered very fierce^; 
"Ugh!" they answered all and each one. 

Seized the wooden bowd the old man. 
Closely in his bony fingers 
Clutched the fatal bowl, Onagon, 
Shook it fiercely and with fury. 
Made the pieces ring together 
As he threw them down before him. 

Red were both the great Kenabeeks, 
Red the Ininewug, the wedge-men, 
Red the Sheshebwug, the ducklings, 
Black the four brass Ozawabeeks, 
White alone the fish, the Keego; 
Only five the pieces counted! 

Then the smiling Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Shook the bowl and threw the pieces ; 
Lightly in the air he tossed them, 
And they fell a])()ut him scattered; 
Dark and bright the Ozawabeeks, 
Red and white the other pieces, 
148 




Pau-Puk-Keewis 

And upright among the others 
One Ininewug was standing, 
Even as crafty Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Stood alone among the players, 
Saying, "Five tens! mine the game is!" 

Twenty eyes glared at him fiercely. 
Like the eyes of wolves glared at him. 
As he turned and left the wigwam. 
Followed by his JVIeshinauwa, 
By the nephew of lagoo, 
By the tall and graceful stripling, 
Bearing in his arms the winnings. 
Shirts of deer-skin, robes of ermine, 
Belts of wampum, pipes and weapons. 

"Carry them," said Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Pointing with his fan of feathers, 
"To my wigwam far to eastward, 
On the dunes of Nagow Wudjoo!" 

Hot and red with smoke and gambling 
Were the eyes of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
As he came forth to the freshness 
Of the pleasant Summer morning. 
All the birds were singing gayly, 
All the streamlets flowing swiftly. 
And the heart of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Sang with pleasure as the birds sing, 
Beat with triumph like the streamlets, 
As he wandered through the village. 
In the early gray of morning, 
With his fan of turkey-feathers. 
With his plumes and tufts of swan's down 
Till he reached the farthest wigwam, 
Reached the lodge of Hiawatha. 
J.i9 




The Song of Hiawatha 

Silent was it and deserted; 
No one met him at the doorway, 
No one came to bid him welcome ; 
But the birds were singing round it, 
In and out and round the doorway, 
Hopping, singing, fluttering, feeding. 
And aloft upon the ridge-pole 
Kahgahgee, the King of Ravens, 
Sat with fiery eyes, and, screaming. 
Flapped his w ings at Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

"All are gone! the lodge is empty!" 
Thus it was spake Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
In his heart resolving mischief ; — 
"Gone is wary Hiawatha, 
Gone the silly Laughing Water, 
Gone Nokomis, the old woman. 
And the lodge is left unguarded!" 

By the neck he seized the raven. 
Whirled it round him like a rattle. 
Like a medicine-pouch he shook it, 
Strangled Kahgahgee, the raven, 
From the ridge-pole of the wigwam 
Left its lifeless body hanging. 
As an insult to its master, 
As a taunt to Hiawatha. 

With a stealthy step he entered, 
Round the lodge in wild disorder 
Threw the household things about him. 
Piled together in confusion 
Bowls of wood and earthen kettles, 
Robes of buffalo and beaver. 
Skins of otter, lynx, and ermine. 
As an insult to Nokomis, 

150 




Pau-Puk-Keewis 



As a taunt to Minnehaha. 

Then departed Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Whisthng, singing through the forest, 
Whisthng gayly to the squirrels, 
Who from hollow boughs above him 
Dropped their acorn-shells upon him, 
Singing gayly to the wood-birds, 
Who from out the leafy darkness 
Answered with a song as merry. 

Then he climbed the rocky headlands 
Looking o'er the Gitchee Gumee, 
Perched himself upon their summit, 
Waiting full of mirth and mischief 
The return of Hiawatha. 

Stretched upon his back he lay there ; 
Far below him plashed the waters, 
Plashed and washed the dreamy waters. 
Far above him swam the heavens, 
Swam the dizzy, dreamy heavens; 
Round him hovered, fluttered, rustled, 
Hiawatha's mountain chickens. 
Flock-wise swept and wheeled about hnn. 
Almost brushed him with their pinions. 

And he killed them as he lay there. 
Slaughtered them by tens and twenties. 
Threw their bodies down the headland. 
Threw them on the beach below him, 
Till at length Kayoshk, the sea-gull. 
Perched upon a crag above them, 
Shouted: "It is Pau-Puk-Keewis! 
He is slaying us by hundreds ! 
Send a message to our brother, 
Tidings send to Hiawatha!" 




•i'r''' '" i ". 



/"J- 



The Song of Hiawatha 
XVll 

THE HUNTING OF PAU-PUK-KEEWIS 

Full of wrath was Hiawatha 
When he came into the village, 
Found the people in confusion, 
Heard of all the misdemeanors, 
All the malice and the mischief, 
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

Hard his breath came through his nos- 
trils. 
Through his teeth he buzzed and mut- 
tered 
AYords of anger and resentment, 
Hot and humming like a hornet. 
"I will slay this Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Slay this mischief-maker!" said he. 
"Not so long and wide the world is, . 
Not so rude and rough the way is, 
That my wrath shall not attain him. 
That my vengeance shall not reach him!" 

Then in swift pursuit dei)arted 
Hiawatha and the hunters 
On the trail of Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Through the forest, where he passed it, 
To the headlands where he rested; 
But they found not Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Only in the trampled grasses, 
In the whortleberry-bushes. 
Found the couch where he had rested. 
Found the impress of his body. 

From the lowlands far beneath them. 
From the Muskoday, the meadow, 
152 



\!/' } The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Pau-Puk-Keewis, turning backward, 
Made a gesture of defiance, 
Made a gesture of derision ; 
And aloud cried Hiawatha, 
From the summit of the mountains: 
"Not so long and wide the world is, 
Not so rude and rough the way is, 
But my wrath shall overtake you, 
And my vengeance shall attain you!" 

Over rock and over river. 
Through bush, and brake, and forest. 
Ran the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis; 
Like an antelope he bounded. 
Till he came unto a streamlet 
In the middle of the forest. 
To a streamlet still and tranquil. 
That had overflowed its margin, 
To a dam made by the beavers. 
To a pond of quiet water. 
Where knee-deep the trees were standing, 
Where the water-lilies floated. 
Where the rushes waved and whispered. 

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
On the dam of trvmks and branches. 
Through whose chinks the water spouted, 
O'er whose summit flowed the streamlet. 
From the bottom rose the beaver. 
Looked with two great eyes of wonder. 
Eyes that seemed to ask a question. 
At the stranger, Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet, 
Flowed the bright and silvery water, 
153 





The Song of Hiawatha 

And he spake unto the beaver, 
With a smile he spake in this wise : 

"O my friend Alimeek, the beaver^ 
Cool and pleasant is the water; 
Let me dive into the water, 
Let me rest there in your lodges; 
Change me, too, into a beaver!" 

Cautiously replied the beaver. 
With reserve he thus made answer: 
"Let me first consult the others, 
Let me ask the other beavers." 
Down he sank into the water. 
Heavily sank he, as a stone sinks, 
Down among the leaves and branches. 
Brown and matted at the bottom. 

On the dam stood Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
O'er his ankles flowed the streamlet, 
Spouted through the chinks below him. 
Dashed upon the stones beneath him. 
Spread serene and calm before him. 
And the sunshine and the shadows 
Fell in flecks and gleams upon him. 
Fell in little shining patches, 
Through the waving, rustling branches. 

From the bottom rose the beavers. 
Silently above the surface 
Rose one head and then another, 
Till the pond seemed full of beavers. 
Full of black and shining faces. 

To the beavers Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Spake entreating, said in this wise: 
"Very pleasant is your dwelling, 
O my friends! and safe from danger; 
154 



1/ 



The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Can you not with all your cunning, 
All your wisdom and contrivance, 
Change me, too, into a beaver?" 

"Yes!" replied Almieek, the beaver. 
He the King of all the beavers, 
"Let yourself slide down among us, 
Down into the tranquil water." 

Down into the pond among them 
Silenth^ sank Pau-Puk-Keewis; 
Black became his shii-t of deer-skin. 
Black his moccasins and leggins. 
In ^ broad black tail behind him 
Spread his fox-tails and his fringes; 
He was changed into a beaver. 

"Make me large," said Pau-Puk-Kee- 
wis, 
"JNIake me large and make me larger, 
Larger than the other beavers." 
"Yes," the beaver chief responded, 
"When our lodge below you enter, 
In our wigwam we will make you 
Ten times larger than the others." 

Thus into the clear brown water 
Silently sank Pau-Puk-Keewis; 
Found the bottom covered over 
With the trunks of trees and branches. 
Hoards of food against the winter, 
Piles and heaps against the famine, 
Found the lodge with arching doorway. 
Leading into spacious chambers. 

Here they made him large and larger, 
JNIade him largest of the beavers, 
Ten times larger than the others. 
155 





I 




The Song of Hiawatha 

You shall be our ruler," said they; 
"Chief and king of all the beavers." 

But not long had Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Sat in state among the beavers, 
When there came a voice of warning 
From the watchman at his station 
In the water-flags and lilies, 
Saying, "Here is Hiawatha! 
Hiawatha with his hunters!" 

Then they heard a cry above them, 
Heard a shouting and a tramping. 
Heard a crashing and a rushing. 
And the water round and o'er them 
Sank and sucked away in eddies. 
And they knew their dam was broken. 

On the lodge's roof the hunters 
Leaped, and broke it all asunder; 
Streamed the sunshine through the crev- 
ice. 
Sprang the beavers through the doorway, 
Hid themselves in deeper water, 
In the channel of the streamlet; 
But the mighty Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Could not pass beneath the doorway; 
He was puffed with pride and feeding. 
He was swollen like a bladder. 

Through the roof looked Hiawatha, 
Cried aloud, "O Pau-Puk-Keewis! 
Vain are all your craft and cunning. 
Vain your manifold disguises! 
Well I know you, Pau-Puk-Keewis!" 
With their clubs they beat and bruised 
him, 

156 






The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Beat to death poor Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Pounded hini as maize is pounded, 
Till his skull was crushed to pieces. 

Six tall hunters, lithe and limber, 
Bore him home on poles and branches, 
Bore the body of the beaver ; 
But the ghost, the Jeebi in him. 
Thought and felt as Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Still lived on as Pau-Puk-Keewis. 

And it fluttered, strove, and struggled. 
Waving hither, waving thither, 
As the curtains of a wigwam 
Struggle with their thongs of deer-skin. 
When the wintry wind is blowing ; 
Till it drew itself together. 
Till it rose up from the body, 
Till it took the form and features 
Of the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Vanishing into the forest. 

But the wary Hiawatha 
Saw the figure ere it vanished, 
Saw the form of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Glide into the soft blue shadow 
Of the pine-trees of the forest; 
Toward the squares of white beyond it. 
Toward an opening in the forest. 
Like a wind it rushed and panted. 
Bending all the boughs before it. 
And behind it, as the rain comes. 
Came the steps of Hiawatha. 

To a lake with many islands 
Came the breathless Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Where among the w^ater-lilies 
157 







The Song of Hiawatha 

Pishnekuh, the brant, were sailing; 
Through the tufts of rushes floating, 
Steering through the reedy islands. 
Now their broad black beaks they lifted, 
Now they plunged beneath the water. 
Now they darkened in the shadow. 
Now they brightened in the sunshine. 

"Pishnekuh!" cried Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
"Pishnekuh! my brothers!" said he, 
"Change me to a brant with plumage. 
With a shining neck and feathers, 
JVIake me large, and make me larger. 
Ten times larger than the others." 

Straightway to a brant they changed 
him, 
With two huge and dusky pinions. 
With a bosom smooth and rounded, 
With a bill like two great paddles, 
JNIade him larger than the others. 
Ten times larger than the largest. 
Just as, shouting from the forest. 
On the shore stood Hiawatha. 

Up they rose with cry and clamor. 
With a whirr and beat of pinions, 
Rose up from the reedy islands, 
From the water-flags and lilies. 
And they said to Pau-Puk-Keewis: 
"In your flying, look not downward, 
Take good heed, and look not downward, 
Lest some strange mischance should 

happen, 
Lest some great mishap befall you!" 

Fast and far they fled to northward, 
158 





jjf^ The Song of Hiawatha 

Fast and far through mist and sunshine, 
Fed among the moors and fen-lands, 
Slept among the reeds and rushes. 

On the morrow as they journeyed, 
Buoyed and lifted hy the South-wind, 
Wafted onward by the South- wind, 
Blowing fresh and strong behind them. 
Rose a sound of human voices, 
Rose a clamor from beneath them. 
From the lodges of a village, 
From the people miles beneath them. 

For the people of the village 
Saw the flock of brant with wonder. 
Saw the wings of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Flapping far up in the ether, 
Broader than two doorway curtains. 

Pau-Puk-Keewis heard the shouting, 



Knew the voice of Hiawatha, 

Knew the outcry of lagoo. 

And, forgetful of the warning, 

Drew his neck in, and looked downward, 

And the wind that blew behind him 

Caught his mighty fan of feathers, 

Sent him wheeling, whirling downward! 

All in vain did Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Struggle to regain his balance! 
Whirling round and round and 

ward. 
He beheld in turn the village 
And in turn the flock above him, 
Saw the village coming nearer, 
And the flock receding farther. 
Heard the voices growing louder, 
160 



down- 






The Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keewis 

Heard the shouting and the laughter; 
Saw no more the flock above him, 
Only saw the earth beneath him; 
Dead out of the empty heaven, 
Dead among the shouting people, 
With a heavy sound and sullen. 
Fell the brant with broken pinions. 

But his soul, his ghost, his shadow, 
Still survived as Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Took again the form and features 
Of the handsome Yenadizze, 
And again went rushing onward. 
Followed fast by Hiawatha, 
Crying: ''Not so wide the world is, 
Not so long and rough the way is. 
But my wrath shall overtake you, 
But my vengeance shall attain you!" 

And so near he came, so near him, 
That his hand was stretched to seize him. 
His right hand to seize and hold him, 
When the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Whirled and spun about in circles. 
Fanned the air into a whirlwind. 
Danced the dust and leaves about him, 
And amid the whirling eddies 
Sprang into a hollow oak-tree, 
Changed himself into a serpent. 
Gliding out through root and rubbish. 

With his right hand Hiawatha 
Smote amain the hollow oak-tree. 
Rent it into shreds and splinters. 
Left it lying there in fragments. 
But in vain; for Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
161 





The Song of Hiawatha 

Once again in human figure, 
Full in sight ran on before him, 
Sped away in gust and whirlwind, 
On the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
Westward by the Big- Sea- Water, 
Came unto the rocky headlands, 
To the Pictured Rocks of sandstone. 
Looking over lake and landscape. 

And the Old JNIan of the Mountain, 
He the JVIanito of JNIountains, 
Opened wide his rocky doorways. 
Opened wide his deep abysses, 
Giving Pau-Puk-Keewis shelter 
In his caverns dark and dreary. 
Bidding Pau-Puk-Keewis welcome 
To his gloomy lodge of sandstone. 

There without stood Hiawatha, 
Found the doorways closed against him, 
With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 
Smote great caverns in the sandstone. 
Cried aloud in tones of thunder, 
"Open! I am Hiawatha!" 
But the Old Man of the Mountain 
Opened not, and made no answer 
From the silent crags of sandstone. 
From the gloomy rock abysses. 

Then he raised his hands to heaven, 
Called imploring on the tempest, 
Called Waywassimo, the lightning. 
And the thunder, Annemeekee; 
And they came with night and darkness. 
Sweeping down the Big- Sea- Water 
From the distant Thunder Mountains; 




Tlie Hunting of Pau-Puk-Keems 

And the trembling Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Heard the footsteps of the thunder, 
Saw the red eyes of the hghtning, 
Was afraid, and crouched and trembled 

Then Waywassimo, the lightning, 
Smote the doorways of the caverns, 
With his war-club smote the doorways. 
Smote the jutting crags of sandstone. 
And the thunder, Annemeekee, 
Shouted down into the caverns, 
Saying, "Where is Pau-Puk-Keewis!" 
And the crags fell, and beneath them 
Dead among the rocky ruins 
Lay the cunning Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Lay the handsome Yenadizze, 
Slain in his own human figure. 

Ended were his wild adventures, 
Ended were his tricks and gambols, 
Ended all his craft and cunning. 
Ended all his mischief-making, 
All his gambling and his dancing. 
All his wooing of the maidens. 

Then the noble Hiawatha 
Took his soul, his ghost, his shadow. 
Spake and said: "O Pau-Puk-Keewis, 
Never more in human figure 
Shall you search for new adventures; 
IN ever more with jest and laughter 
Dance the dust and leaves in whirlwinds 
But above there in the heavens 
You shall soar and sail in circles; 
I will change you to an eagle. 
To Keneu, the great war-eagle, 





The Song of Hiawatha 

Chief of all the fowls with feathers, 
Chief of Hiawatha's chickens." • 

Aiid the name of Pau-Puk-Keewis 
Lingers still among the people, 
Lingers still among the singers; 
And among the story-tellers; 
And in Winter, when the snow-flakes 
Whirl in eddies round the lodges. 
When the wind in gusty tumult 
O'er the smoke-flue pipes and whistles, 
"There," they cry, "comes Pau-Puk-Kee- 
wis; 
He is dancing through the village, 
He is gathering in his harvest!" 



XVIH 

THE DEATH OF KWASIND 

Far and wide among the nations 
Spread the name and fame of Kwasind ; 
No man dared to strive with Kwasind, 
No man could compete with Kwasind. 
But the mischievous Puk-Wudjies, 
They the envious Little People, 
They the fairies and the pygmies, 
Plotted and conspired against him. 

"If this hateful Kwasind," said they, 
"If this great, outrageous fellow 
Goes on thus a little longer, 
Tearing everything he touches. 
Rending everything to pieces. 
Filling all the world with wonder, 
What becomes of the Puk-Wudjies? 
164. 



k:r^ 




The Death of Kwasind 

Who will care for the Puk-Wudjies? 

He will tread us down like mushrooms, 

Drive us all into the water, 

Give our bodies to be eaten 

By the wicked Nee-ba-naw-baigs, 

By the Spirits of the water!" 

So the angry Little People 
All conspired against the Strong JNIan, 
All conspired to murder Kwasind, 
Yes, to rid the world of Kwasind, 
The audacious, overbearing. 
Heartless, haughty, dangerous Kwasind! 

Now this wondrous strength of Kwa- 
sind 
In his crown alone was seated ; 
In his crown too was his weakness ; 
There alone could he be wounded, 
Nowhere else could weapon pierce him, 
Nowhere else could weapon harm him. 

Even there the only weapon 
That could wound him, that could 

him. 
Was the seed-cone of the pine-tree, 
Was the blue cone of the fir-tree. 
This was Kwasind's fatal secret, 
Known to no man among mortals; 
But the cunning Little People, 
The Puk-Wudjies, knew the secret. 
Knew the only way to kill him. 

So they gathered cones together, 
Gathered seed-cones of the pine-tree. 
Gathered blue cones of the fir-tree, 
In the woods by Taquamenaw, 
165 





The Song of Hiawatha 

Brought them to the river's margin, 
Heaped them in great piles together, 
Where the red rocks from the margin 
Jutting overhang the river. 
There they lay in wait for Kwasind, 
The malicious Little People. 

'T was an afternoon in Summer; 
Very hot and still the air was. 
Very smooth the gliding river, 
Motionless the sleeping shadows: 
Insects glistened in the sunshine. 
Insects skated on the water. 
Filled the drowsy air with buzzing. 
With a far-resounding war-cry. 

Down the river came the Strong jMan, 
In his birch canoe came Kwasind, 
Floating slowly down the current 
Of the sluggish Taquamenaw, 
Very languid with the weather. 
Very sleepy with the silence. 

From the overhanging branches, 
From the tassels of the birch-trees, 
Soft the Spirit of Sleep descended; 
By his airy hosts surrounded. 
His invisible attendants. 
Came the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin; 
Like the burnished Dush-kwo-ne-she, 
Like a dragon-fly, he hovered 
O'er the drowsy head of Kwasind. 

To his ear there came a murmur 
As of waves upon a sea-shore. 
As of far-off tumbling waters, 
As of winds among the pine-trees; 
166 



^ The Death of Kicasind 

And he felt upon his forehead 
Blows of little airy war-clubs, 
Wielded by the slumbrous legions 
Of the Spirit of Sleep, Nepahwin, 
As of some one breathing on him. 

At the first blow of their war-clubs, 
Fell a drowsiness on Kwasind; 
At the second blow they smote him, 
Motionless his paddle rested; 
At the third, before his vision 
Reeled the landscape into darkness. 
Very sound asleep was Kwasind. 

So he floated down the river. 
Like a blind man seated upright. 
Floated down the Taquamenaw, 
Underneath the trembling birch-trees, 
Underneath the wooden headlands. 
Underneath the war encampment 
Of the pygmies, the Puk-Wudjies. 

There they stood, all armed and wait- 
ing. 
Hurled the pine-cones down upon him. 
Struck him on his brawny shoulders. 
On his crown defenceless struck him. 
"Death to Kwasind!" was the sudden 
War-cry of the Little Peoj)le. 

And he sideways swayed and tumbled. 
Sideways fell into the river, 
Plunged beneath the sluggish water 
Headlong, as an otter plunges; 
And the birch canoe, abandoned. 
Drifted empty down the river, 
Bottom upward swerved and drifted: 





1^ 




The Song 



of Hiawatha 

Nothing more was seen of Kwasind. 

But the memory of the Strong Man 
I^ingered long among the people, 
And whenever through the forest 
Raged and roared the wintry tempest, 
And the branches, tossed and troubled, 
Creaked and groaned and split asunder, 
"Kwasind!" cried they; "that is Kwasind! 
He is gathering in his fire-wood!" 

XIX 

THE GHOSTS 

Never stoops the soaring vulture 

On his quarry in the desert. 

On the sick or w^ounded bison. 

But another vulture, watching 

From his high aerial look-out. 

Sees the downward plunge, and follows; 

And a third pursues the second. 

Coming from the invisible ether. 

First a speck, and then a vulture. 

Till the air is dark with pinions. 

So disasters come not singly; 
But as if they watched and waited, 
Scanning one another's motions, 
When the first descends, the others 
Follow, follow, gathering flock-wise 
Round their victim, sick and wounded. 
First a shadow, then a sorrow. 
Till the air is dark with anguish. 

Now, o'er all the dreary Northland, 
Mighty Peboan, the Winter, 
168 



'» 






r 



The Ghosts 

Breathing on the lakes and rivers, 

Into stone had changed their waters. 

From his hair he shook the snow-flakes, 

Till the plains were strewn with whiteness, 

One uninterrupted level, 

As if, stooping, the Creator 

With his hand had smoothed them over. 

Through the forest, wide and wailing, 
Roamed the hunter on his snow-shoes ; 
In the village worked the women, 
Pounded maize, or dressed the deer-skin; 
And the young men played together 
On the ice the noisy ball-play. 
On the plain the dance of snow-shoes. 

One dark evening, after sundown, 
In her wigwam Laughing Water 
Sat with old Nokomis, waiting 
For the steps of Hiawatha 
Homeward from the hunt returning. 

On their faces gleamed the fire-light. 
Painting them with streaks of crimson. 
In the eyes of old Nokomis 
Glimmered like the watery moonlight. 
In the eyes of Laughing Water 
Glistened like the sun in water; 
And behind them crouched their shadows 
In the corners of the wigwam, 
And the smoke in wreaths above them 
Climbed and crowded through the smoke- 
flue. 

Then the curtain of the doorway 
From without was slowly lifted; 
Brighter glowed the fire a moment, 
169 




/'J- 



'i^^ The Song of Hiawatha 

And a moment swerved the smoke- wreath, 
As two women entered softly, 
Passed the doorway uninvited, 
Without word of salutation, 
Without sign of recognition. 
Sat down in the farthest corner, 
Crouching low among the shadows. 

From their aspect and their garments, 
Strangers seemed they in the village; 
Very pale and haggard w^ere they. 
As they sat there sad and silent. 
Trembling, cowering with the shadow^s. 

Was it the wind above the smoke-flue. 
Muttering down into the wigwam? 
Was it the owl, the Koko-koho, 
Hooting from the dismal forest? 
Sure a voice said in the silence: 
"These are corpses clad in garments, 
These are ghosts that come to haunt you, 
From the kingdom of Ponemah, 
From the land of the Hereafter!" 

Homeward now came Hiawatha 
From his hunting in the forest, 
With the snow upon his tresses, 
And the red deer on his shoulders. 
At the feet of Laughing Water 
Down he threw his lifeless burden ; 
Nobler, handsomer she thought him, 
Than w^hen first he came to woo her. 
First threw down the deer before her. 
As a token of his wishes, 
As a promise of the future. 

Then he turned and saw the strangers, 
170 



^^ 



-V 




i The Gliosis 

Cowering, crouching with the shadows ; 
Said within himself, "Who are they^ 
What strange guests has Minnehaha?" 
But he questioned not the strangers, 
Only spake to bid them welcome 
To his lodge, his food, his fireside. 

When the evening meal was ready, 
And the deer had been divided, 
Both the pallid guests, the strangers, 
Springing from among the shadows. 
Seized upon the choicest portions, 
Seized the white fat of the roebuck. 
Set apart for Laughing Water, 
For the wife of Hiawatha; 
Without asking, without thanking. 
Eagerly devoured the morsels, 
Flitted back among the shadows 
In the corner of the wigwam. 

Not a word spake Hiawatha, 
Not a motion made Nokomis, 
Not a gesture Laughing Water; 
Not a change came o'er their features; 
Only Minnehaha softly 
Whispered, saying, "They are famished 
Let them do what best delights them; 
Let them eat, for they are famished. 

Many a daylight dawned and darkened 
JNIany a night shook off the daylight 
As the pine shakes off the snow-flakes 
From the midnight of its branches; 
Day by day the guests unmoving 
Sat there silent in the wigwam ; 
But by night, in storm or starlight, 
171 





'i^^^ The Song of Hiawatha 

Forth they went into the forest, 
Bringing fire-wood to the wigwam, 
Bringing pine-cones for the burning, 
Always sad and always silent. 

And whenever Hiawatha 
Came from fishing or from hunting^^ 
When the evening meal was ready, 
And the food had been divided. 
Gliding from their darksome corner. 
Came the pallid guests, the strangers, 
Seized upon the choicest portions 
Set aside for Laughing Water, 
And without rebuke or question 
Flitted back among the shadows. 

Never once had Hiawatha 
By a word or look reproved them ; 
Never once had old Nokomis 
Ma-de a gesture of impatience; 
Never once had Laughing Water 
Shown resentment at the outrage. 
All had they endured in silence. 
That the rights of guest and stranger, 
That the virtue of free-giving. 
By a look might not be lessened. 
By a word might not be broken. 

Once at midnight Hiawatha, 
Ever wakeful, ever watchful, 
In the wigwam, dimly lighted 
By the brands that still were burning, 
By the glimmering, flickering fire-light, 
Heard a sighing, oft repeated, 
Heard a sobbing as of sorrow. 

From his couch rose Hiawatha, 
172 



The Ghosts 

From his shaggy hides of bison, 
Pushed aside the deer-skin curtain, 
Saw the pallid guests, the shadows, 
Sitting upright on their couches. 
Weeping in the silent midnight. 

And he said: "O guests! why is it 
That your hearts are so afflicted. 
That you sob so in the midnight? 
Has perchance the old Nokomis, 
Has my wife, my ^linnehaha. 
Wronged or grieved you by unkindness, 
Failed in hospitable duties?'* 

Then the shadows ceased from weeping, 
Ceased from sobbing and lamenting, 
And they said, with gentle voices: 
"We are ghosts of the departed, 
Souls of those who once were with you. 
From the realms of Chibiabos 
Hither have we come to try you. 
Hither have we come to warn yon, 

"Cries of grief and lamentation 
Reach us in the Blessed Islands: 
Cries of anguish from the living, 
Calling back their friends departed. 
Sadden us with useless sorrow. 
Therefore have we come to try you; 
No one knows us, no one heeds us. 
We are but a burden to you. 
And we see that the departed 
Have no place among the living. 

"Think of this, O Hiawatha! 
Speak of it to all the people. 
That henceforward and forever 
1I3_ 




/^ 



The Song of Hiawatha 

They no more with lamentations 
Sadden the souls of the departed 
In the Islands of the Blessed. 

*'Do not lay such heavy burdens 
In the graves of those you bury, 
Not such weight of furs and w^ampum, 
Not such weight of pots and kettles, 
For the spirits faint beneath them. 
Only give them food to carry. 
Only give them fire to light them. 

"Four days is the spirit's journey 
To the land of ghosts and shadows, 
Four its lonely night encampments; 
Four times must their fires be lighted. 
Therefore, when the dead are buried, 
Let a fire, as night approaches, 
Four times on the grave be kindled. 
That the soul upon its journey 
May not lack the cheerful fire-light, 
May not grope about in darkness. 

"Farewell, noble Hiawatha! 
We have put you to the trial. 
To the proof have put your patience. 
By the insult of our presence. 
By the outrage of our actions. 
We have found you great and noble. 
Fail not in the greater trial, 
Faint not in the harder struggle." 

When they ceased, a sudden darkness 
Fell and filled the silent wigwam. 
Hiawatha heard a rustle 
As of garments trailing by him, 
Heard the curtain of the doorway 




The Ghosts 

Lifted by a hand he saw not, 
Felt the cold breath of the night air, 
For a moment saw the starlight ; 
But he saw the ghosts no longer, 
Saw no more the wandering spirits 
From the kingdom of Ponemah, 
From the land of the Hereafter. 

XX 

THE FAMINE 



O THE long and dreary Winter! 
O the cold and cruel Winter! 
Ever thicker, thicker, thicker 
Froze the ice on lake and river, 
Ever deeper, deeper, deeper. 
Fell the snow o'er all the landscape. 
Fell the covering snow, and drifted 
Through the forest, round the village. 

Hardly from his buried wigwam 
Could the hunter force a passage ; 
With his mittens and his snow-shoes 
Vainly walked he through the forest, 
Sought for bird or beast and found nom;, 
Saw no track of deer or rabbit. 
In the snow beheld no footprints. 
In the ghastly, gleaming forest 
Fell, and could not rise from weakness, 
Perished there from cold and hunger. 

O the famine and the fever! 
O the wasting of the famine ! 
O the blasting of the fever! 
O the wailing of the children ! 
aX5 





/^ 



y^. 



"^^ 



The Song of Hiawatha 

the anguish of the women! 

All the earth was sick and famished; 
Hungry was the air around them, 
Hungry was the sky above them, 
And the hungry stars in heaven 
Like the eyes of wolves glared at them! 

Into Hiawatha's wigwam 
Came two other guests as silent 
As the ghosts were, and as gloomy. 
Waited not to be invited, 
Did not parley at the doorway. 
Sat there without word of welcome 
In the seat of Laughing Water ; 
Looked with haggard eyes and hollow 
At the face of Laughing Water. 

And the foremost said: "Behold me! 

1 am Famine, Bukadawin!" 
And the other said: "Behold me! 
I am Fever, Ahkosewin!" 

And the lovely Minnehaha 
Shuddered as they looked upon her, 
Shuddered at the words they uttered. 
Lay down on her bed in silence. 
Hid her face, but made no answer; 
Lay there trembling, freezing, burning 
At the looks they cast upon her. 
At the fearful words they uttered. 

Forth into the empty forest 
Rushed the maddened Hiawatha; 
In his heart was deadly sorrow. 
In his face a stony firmness ; 
On his brow the sweat of anguish 
Started, but it froze and fell not. 




The Famine 

Wrapped in furs and armed for hunt- 
ing 
With his mighty bow of ash- tree, 
With his quiver full of arrows, 
With his mittens, Minjekahwun, 
Into the vast and vacant forest 
On his snow-shoes strode he forward. 

"Gitche JManito, the Mighty!" 
Cried he with his face uplifted 
In that bitter hour of anguish, 
*'Give your children food, O father! 
Give us food, or we must perish ! 
Give me food for JNIinnehaha, 
For my dying JNIinnehaha!" 

Through the far-resounding forest, 
Through the forest vast and vacant 
Rang that cry of desolation. 
But there came no other answer 
Than the echo of his crj^ing, 
Than the echo of the woodlands, 
"JNIinnehaha ! JNIinnehaha !" 

All day long roved Hiawatha 
In that melanchol}^ forest. 
Through the shadow of whose thickets, 
In the pleasant days of Summer, 
Of that ne'er forgotten Summer, 
He had brought his young wife homeward 
From the land of the Dacotahs; 
When the birds sang in the thickets. 
And the streamlets laughed and glistened. 
And the air was full of fragrance. 
And the lovely Laughing Water 
Said with voice that did not tremble, 
177 





2Vic Song of Hiawatha 

"I will follow you, my husband!" 

In the wigwam with Nokomis, 
With those gloomy guests that watched 

her, 
With the Famine and the Fever, 
She was lying, the Beloved, 
She the dying JNIinnehaha. 

"Hark!" she said; "I hear a rushing, 
Hear a roaring and a rushing. 
Hear the Falls of JNIinnehaha 
Calling to me from a distance!" 
"No, my child!" said old Nokomis, 

Tis the night-wind in the pine-trees!" 

"Look!" she said, "I see my father 
Standing lonely at his doorway. 
Beckoning to me from his wigwam 
In the land of the Dacotahs!" 
"No, my child!" said old Nokomis, 
" 'Tis the smoke, that waves and beckons!" 

"Ah!" said she, "the eyes of Pauguk 
Glare upon me in the darkness, 
I can feel his icy fingers 
Clas]3ing mine amid the darkness! 
Hiawatha! Hiawatha!" 

And the desolate Hiawatha, 
Far away amid the forest. 
Miles away among the mountains. 
Heard that sudden cry of anguish, 
Heard the voice of INIinnehaha 
Calling to him in the darkness, 
"Hiawatha! Hiawatha!" 

Over snow-fields waste and pathless. 
Under snow-encumbered branches, 
178 



( 



^- -^-^ 





The Song of Hiawatha 

omeward hurried Hiawatha, 
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted , 
Heard Nokomis moaning, waihng: 
' ' Wahnowin ! Wahnowin ! 
Would that I had perished for you, 
Would that I were dead as you are! 
Wahnowin ! Wahnowin !" 

And he rushed into the wigwam. 
Saw the old Nokomis slowly 
Rocking to and fro and moaning, 
Saw his lovely Minnehaha 
Lying dead and cold before him. 
And his bursting heart within him 
Uttered such a cry of anguish. 
That the forest moaned and shuddered, 
That the very stars in heaven 
Shook and trembled with his anguish. 

Then he sat down, still and speechless. 
On the bed of Minnehaha, 
At the feet of Laughing Water, 
At those willing feet, that never 
INIore would lightly run to meet him, 
Never more would lightly follow. 

With both hands his face he covered. 
Seven long days and nights he sat there. 
As if in a swoon he sat there, 
Speechless, motionless, unconscious 
Of the daylight or the darkness. 

Then they buried Minnehaha; 
In the snow a grave they made her, 
In the forest deep and darksome, 
Underneath the moaning hemlocks; 
Clothed her in her richest garments, 
180 



The Fainine 

Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, 
Covered her with snow, hke ermine; 
Thus they buried Minnehaha. 

And at night a fire was hghted, 
On her grave four times was kindled. 
For her soul upon its journey 
To the Islands of the Blessed. 
From his doorway Hiawatha 
Saw it burning in the forest, 
Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks; 
From his sleepless bed uprising, 
From the bed of Minnehaha, 
Stood and watched it at the doorway. 
That it might not be extinguished. 
Might not leave her in the darkness. 

"Farewell!" said he, "Minnehaha! 
Farewell, O my Laughing Water! 
All my heart is buried with you! 
All my thoughts go onward with you! 
Come not back again to labor. 
Come not back again to suffer. 
Where the Famine and the Fever 
Wear the heart and waste the body. 
Soon my task will be completed. 
Soon your footsteps I shall follow 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the Kingdom of Ponemah, 
To the Land of the Hereafter! 




The Song of Iliaicatha 



XXI 



THE WHITE MAN S FOOT 



/^ 



In his lodge beside a river, 
Close beside a frozen river, 
Sat an old man, sad and lonely. 
White his hair was as a snow-drift; 
Dull and low his fire was burning, 
And the old man shook and trembled. 
Folded in his Waubewyon, 
In his tattered white-skin-wrapper, 
Hearing nothing but the tempest 
As it roared along the forest, 
Seeing nothing but the snow-storm. 
As it whirled and hissed and drifted. 

All the coals were white with ashes, 
And the fire was slowly dying. 
As a young man, walking lightly, 
At the open doorway entered. 
Red with blood of youth his cheeks were. 
Soft his eyes, as stars in Spring-time, 
Bound his forehead was with grasses. 
Bound and plumed with scented grasses; 
On his lips a smile of beauty, 
Filling all the lodge with sunshine. 
In his hand a bunch of blossoms 
Filling all the lodge with sweetness. 

"Ah, my son!" exclaimed the old man, 
"Happy are my eyes to see you. 
Sit here on the mat beside me, 
Sit here b}^ the dying embers, 
Let us pass the night together. 
182 



v::^ 




,/, i The White Mans Foot 

( Tell me of your strange adventures, 
' Of the lands where you have travelled ; 
I will tell you of my prowess, 
Of my many deeds of w^ondei 

From his pouch he drew his peace-pipe. 
Very old and strangely fashioned; 
JMade of red stone was the pipe-head, 
And the stem a reed with feathers ; 
Filled the pipe with bark of willow. 
Placed a burning coal upon it. 
Gave it to his guest, the stranger, 
And began to speak in this wise : 
"WHien I blow my breath about me. 
When I breathe upon the landscape, 
JVIotionless are all the rivers. 
Hard as stone becomes the water!" 

And the young man answered, smiling; 
"When I blow my breath about me, 
When I breathe upon the landscape, 
Flowers spring up o'er all the meadows, 
Singing, onward rush the rivers!" 

"When I shake my hoary tresses," 
Said the old man, darkly frowning, 
"All the land with snow is covered; 
All the leaves from all the branches 
Fall and fade and die and wither. 
For I breathe, and lo! they are not. 
From the waters and the marshes 
Rise the wild goose and the heron, 
Fly away to distant regions, 
For I speak, and lo ! they are not. 
And where'er my footsteps wander. 
All the wild beasts of the forest 
183 





Tlie Song of Hiatvatha 

Hide themselves in holes and caverns, 
And the earth becomes as flintstone!" 

"When I shake my flowing ringlets," 
Said the young man, softly laughing, 
"Showers of rain fall warm and welcome, 
Plants lift up their heads rejoicing, 
Back unto their lakes and marshes 
Come the wild goose and the heron. 
Homeward shoots the arrowy swallow^ 
Sing the bluebird and the robin. 
And where'er my footsteps wander. 
All the meadows wave with blossoms. 
All the woodlands ring with music. 
All the trees are dark wdth foliage!" 

While they spake, the night departed: 
From the distant realms of Wabun, 
From his shining lodge of silver. 
Like a warrior robed and painted, 
Came the sun, and said, "Behold me! 
Gheezis, the great sun, behold me!" 

Then the old man's tongue was speech- 
less 
And the air grew warm and pleasant. 
And upon the wigwam sweetly 
Sang the bluebird and the robin. 
And the stream began to murmur, 
And a scent of growing grasses 
Through the lodge was gently wafted. 

And Segwun, the youthful stranger, 
More distinctly in the daylight 
Saw the icy face before him; 
It was Peboan, the Winter! 

From his eyes the tears were flowing. 



V 




¥ 



The White Mans Foot 

As from melting lakes the streamlets, 
And his body shrunk and dwindled 
As the shouting sun ascended, 
Till into the air it faded, 
Till into the ground it vanished. 
And the young man saw before him. 
On the hearthstone of the wigwam. 
Where the fire had smoked and 

smouldered. 
Saw the earliest flower of Spring-time, 
Saw the Beauty of the Spring-time, 
Saw the JNIiskodeed in blossom. 

Thus it was that in the North-land 
After that unheard-of coldness. 
That intolerable Winter, 
Came the Spring with all its splendor, 
All its birds and all its blossoms, 
All its flowers and leaves and grasses, 

Sailing on the wind to northward, 
Flying in great flocks, like arrows. 
Like huge arrows shot through heaven. 
Passed the swan, the JNIahnahbezee, 
Speaking almost as a man speaks; 
And in long lines weaving, bending 
Like a bow-string snapped asunder. 
Came the white goose, Waw-be-wawa ; 
And in pairs, or singly flying, 
Mahng the loon, with clangorous pinions 
The blue heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
And the grouse, the JNIushkodasa. 

In the thickets and the meadows 
Piped the bluebird, the Owaissa, 
On the summit of the lodges 




/'f 




The Song of Illatcatha 

Sang the robin, the Opechee, 
In the covert of the pine-trees 
Cooed the pigeon, the Omemee, 
And the sorrowing Hiawatha, 
Speechless in his infinite sorrow. 
Heard their voices calhng to liim, 
Went forth from his gloomy doorway, 
Stood and gazed into the heaven. 
Gazed upon the earth and waters. 

From his wanderings far to eastward, 
From the regions of the morning. 
From the shining land of Wabun, 
Homeward now returned lagoo. 
The great traveller, the great boaster, 
Full of new and strange adventures, 
Marvels many and many w^onders. 

And the people of the village 
Listened to him as he told them 
Of his marvellous adventures. 
Laughing answered him in this wise: 
"Ugh! it is indeed lagoo! 
No one else beholds such wonders!" 

He had seen, he said, a water 
Bigger than the Big- Sea-Water, 
Broader than the Gitche Gumee, 
Bitter so that none could drink it! 
At each other looked the w^arriors, 
Looked the women at each other. 
Smiled, and said, "It cannot be so! 
Kaw!" they said, "it cannot be so!" 

O'er it, said he, o'er this w^ater 
Came a great canoe with pinions, 
A canoe with wings came flying, 




The Song of Hiawatha 

Bigger than a grove of pine-trees, 
Taller than the tallest tree-tops! 
And the old men and the women 
Looked and tittered at each other; 
"Kaw!" they said, "we don't helieve it!" 

From its mouth, he said, to greet him, 
Came Waywassimo, the lightning, 
Came the thunder, Annemeekee! 
And the warriors and the women 
Laughed aloud at j)oor lagoo; 
"Kaw!" they said, "what tales you tell 
us!" 

In it, said he, came a people, 
In a great canoe with pinions 
Came, he said, a hundred warriors. 
Painted white were all their faces. 
And with hair their chins were covered! 
And the warriors and the women 
Laughed and shouted in derision. 
Like the ravens on the tree-tops. 
Like the crows upon the hemlocks. 
"Kaw!" they said, "what lies you tell us! 
Do not think that we believe them!" 

Only Hiawatha laughed not. 
But he gravely spake and answered 
To their jeering and their jesting: 
"True is all lagoo tells us; 
I have seen it in a vision. 
Seen the great canoe with pinions. 
Seen the people with white faces. 
Seen the coming of this bearded 
People of the wooden vessel 
From the regions of the morning, 



( 



II 



The White Maiis Foot 

From the shining land of Wabun. 

"Gitche Manito the Mighty, 
The Great Spirit, the Creator, 
Sends them hither on his errand, 
Sends them to us with his message. 
Wheresoe'er they move, before them 
Swarms the stinging fly the Ahmo, 
Swarms the bee, the honey-maker; 
Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them 
Springs a flower unknown among us, 
Springs the White-man's Foot in blossom 

"Let us welcome, then, the strangers. 
Hail them as our friends and brothers. 
And the heart's right hand of friendship 
Give them when they come to see us. 
Gitche Manito, the flighty, 
Said this to me in my vision. 

"I beheld, too, in that vision 
All the secrets of the future. 
Of the distant days that shall be, 
I beheld the westward marches 
Of the unknown, crowded nations. 
All the land was full of people. 
Restless, struggling, toiling, striving, 
Speaking many tongues, yet feeling 
But one heart-beat in their bosoms. 
In the woodlands rang their axes. 
Smoked their towns in all the valleys, 
Over all the lakes and rivers 
Rushed their great canoes of thunder. 

"Then a darker, drearier vision 
Passed before me, vague and cloud-like 
I beheld our nation scattered, 
189 






TJic Song of Hiawatha 

All forgetful of my counsels, 
Weakened, warring with each other; 
Saw the remnants of our people 
Sweeping westward, wild and woful. 
Like the cloud-rack of a tempest, 
Like the withered leaves of Autumn!" 

4 

XXII 

Hiawatha's departure 

By the shore of Gitche Gumee, 
By the shining Big- Sea- Water, 
At the doorway of his wigwam, 
In the pleasant summer morning, 
Hiawatha stood and waited. 
All the air was full of freshness. 
All the earth was bright and joyous, 
And before him, through the sunshine. 
Westward toward the neighboring forest 
Passed in golden swarms the Ahmo, 
Passed the bees, the honey-makers, 
Burning, singing in the sunshine. 

Bright above him shone the heavens, 
Level spead the lake before him; 
From its bosom leaped the sturgeon, 
Sparkling, flashing in the sunshine; 
On its margin the great forest 
Stood reflected in the water, 
Every tree-top had its shadow, 
]Motionless beneath the water, 

From the brow of Hiawatha 
Gone was every trace of sorrow, 
As the fog from off the water. 





^^ 



The Song 



of Hiawatha 

As the mist from off the meadow. 
With a smile of joy and triumph, 
With a look of exultation, 
As of one who in a vision 
Sees what is to be, but is not. 
Stood and waited Hiawatha. 

Toward the sun his hands were lifted. 
Both the palms spread out against it, 
And between the parted fingers 
Fell the sunshine on his features. 
Flecked with light his naked shoulders, 
As it falls and flecks an oak-t^'ee 
Through the rifted leaves and branches. 

O'er the water floating, flying, 
Something in the hazy distance, 
Something in the mists of morning, 
Loomed and lifted from the water, 
Now seemed floating, now seemed flying. 
Coming nearer, nearer, nearer. 

Was it Shingebis the diver? 
Or the pelican, the Shada? 
Or the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah? 
Or the white goose, Waw-be-wawa, 
With the water dripping, flashing 
From its glossy neck and feathers? 

It was neither goose nor diver. 
Neither pelican nor heron. 
O'er the water floating, flying, 
Through the shining mist of morning. 
But a birch canoe with paddles. 
Rising, sinking on the water. 
Dripping, flashing in the sunshine; 
And within it came a people 
192 




Hiaicathas Departure 

From the distant land of Wabun 
From the farthest realms of morning 
Came the Black-Robe chief, the Prophet, 
He the Priest of Prayer, the Pale-face, 
With his guides and his companions. 

And the noble Hiawatha, 
With his hands aloft extended, 
Held aloft in sign of welcome. 
Waited, full of exultation. 
Till the birch canoe with paddles 
Grated on the shining pebbles. 
Stranded on the sandy margin. 
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, 
With the cross upon his bosom. 
Landed on the sandy margin. 

Then the joyous Hiawatha 
Cried aloud and spake in this wise: 
"Beautiful is the sun, O strangers. 
When you come so far to see us ! 
All our town in peace awaits you; 
All our doors stand open for you ; 
You shall enter all our wigwams. 
For the heart's right hand we give you. 

"Never bloomed the earth so gayly. 
Never shone the sun so brightly. 
As to-day they shine and blossom 
When you come so far to see us! 
Never was our lake so tranquil, 
Nor so free from rocks and sand-bars; 
For your birch canoe in passing 
Has removed both rock and sand-bar. 

"Never before had our tobacco 
Such a sweet and jileasant flavor, 
193 




.^ 




The Song of Iliazcatha 

ever the broad leaves of our eoi-n -fields 
Were so beautiful to look on. 
As they seem to us this luoi-niu^-. 
When you eome so far to see us!'' 

And the Black-Robe chief made answer, 
Stammered in his speech a httle. 
Speaking- words yet unfamihar: 
"Peace be with you, Hiawatha, 
Peace be with you and your ])eople, 
Peace of prayer, and jieace of pardon, 
Peace of Christ, and joy of Mary!" 

Then the generous Hiawatha 
Led the strangers to his vN'igwam, 
Seated them on skins of bison, 
Seated them on skins of ermine. 
And the careful old Xokomis 
Brought them food in bowls of bass-wood, 
AVatei- brought in birchen dippers. 
And the calumet, the peace-pipe. 
Filled and lighted for their smoking. 

All the old men of the village. 
All the warriors of the nation. 
All the Jossakeeds, the ])ro])hets, 
The magicians, the \Vabenos, 
And the medicine-men, the Medas. 
Came to bid the strangers welcome. 
''It is well," they said, "O brothers, 
That you come so far to see us!" 

In a circle round the doorway. 
With their pipes they sat in silence, 
Waiting to behold the strangers, 
Waiting to receive their messsagc; 
Till the Black-Robe chief, the Pale-face, 
194 



^\V/ 



^c: 



\- 




7 




Hiatcathas Depart are 

From the wigwam came to greet them, 
Stammering in his speech a Httle, 
Speaking words yet unfamihar; 
"It is well," they said, "O brother, 
That you come so far to see us!" 

Then the Black-Robe chief, the prophet 
Told his message to the people, 
Told the purport of his mission, 
Told them of the Virgin JNlary, 
And her blessed Son, the Saviour, 
How in distant lands and ages 
He had lived on earth as we do; 
How he fasted, prayed and labored; 
How the Jews, the tribe accursed, 
JNIocked him, scourged him, crucified him ; 
How he rose from where they laid him. 
Walked again with his disciples. 
And ascended into heaven. 

And the chiefs made answer, saying: 
"We have listened to your message, 
We have heard your words of wisdom. 
We will think on what you tell us. 
It is well for us, O brothers. 
That you come so far to see us!" 

Then they rose up nnd deparled' 
Each one homeward to his wigwam, 
To the young men and the women 
Told the story of the strangers 
Whom the Master of Life had sent them 
From the shining land of Wabun. 

Heavy with the heat and silence 
Grew the afternoon of Sunmier, 
With a drowsy sound the forest 
105. 




^r:;^ 





Tlic Song of Hiatcatha 

A\^liispcred rouiul the sultry wigwam, 
A\^ith a sound of sleep the water 
Kippled on tlie beach below it; 
I'rom the corn-fields shrill and ceaseless 
Sang the grasshopper, Pah-puk-keena ; 
And the guests of Hiawatha, 
Weary with the heat of Summer, 
Slumbered in the sultry wigwam. 

Slowly o'er the simmering landscape 
Fell the evening's dusk and coolness. 
And the long and level sunbeams 
Shot their spears into the forest. 
Breaking through its shields of shadow, 
Rushed into each secret ambush, 
Searched each thicket, dingle, hollow; 
Still the guests of Hiawatha 
Slumbered in the silent wigwam. 

From his place rose Hiawatha, 
Bade farewell to old Nokomis, 
Spake in whispers, spake in this wise, 
Did not wake the guests, that slumbered: 

"I am going, O Nokomis, 
On a long and distant journey, 
To the portals of the Sunset, 
To the regions of the home-wind. 
Of the Northwest wind, Keewaydin. 
But these guests I leave behind me, 
In your watch and ward I leave them; 
See that never harm comes near them, 
See that never fear molests them. 
Never danger nor suspicion. 
Never want of food or shelter, 
In the lodge of Hiawatha!" 



i 



Hkacathas Departure 

Forth into the village went he, 
Bade farewell to all the warriors, 
Bade farewell to all the young men, 
Spake persuading, spake in this wise: 

"I am going, O my people, 
On a long and distant journey; 
Many moons and many winters 
Will have come, and will have vanished 
Ere I come again to see you. 
But my guests I leave behind me; 
Listen to their words of wisdom. 
Listen to the truth they tell you. 
For the JNIaster of Life has sent them 
From the land of light and morning!" 

On the shore stood Hiawatha, 
Turned and waved his hand at parting ; 
On the clear and luminous water 
Launched his birch canoe for sailing. 
From the pebbles of the margin 
Shoved it forth into the water ; 
Whispered to it, "Westward! westward! 
And with speed it darted forward. 

And the evening sun descending 
Set the clouds on fire with redness, 
Burned the broad sky, like a prairie, 
I^eft upon the level water 
One long track and trail of splendor, 
Down whose stream, as down a river, 
Westward, westward Hiawatha 
Sailed into the fiery sunset. 
Sailed into the purple vapors. 
Sailed into the dusk of evening. 

And the people from the margin 






'ta 



The Song of HiaxcaiJt 

Watched hini floating, rising, sinking. 
Till the birch canoe seemed lifted 
High into tliat sea of splendor, 
Till it sank into the vapors 
I^ike the new moon slowly, slowly 
Sinking in the pnrple distance. 

And they said, "Farewell forever!" 
Said, "Farewell, () Hiawatha!" 
And the forests, dark and lonely, 
]Moved through all their depths of dark- 
ness. 
Sighed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the waves upon the margin 
Rising, rippling on the pebbles, 
Sobbed, "Farewell, O Hiawatha!" 
And the heron, the Shuh-shuh-gah, 
From her haunts among the fen-lands, 
Screamed, "Farewell, () Hiawatha!" 

Thus departed Hiawatha, 
Hiawatha the Beloved, 
In the glory of the sunset. 
In the purple mists of evening. 
To the regions of the home-wind. 
Of the Northwest wind, Keewaydin, 
To the Islands of the Blessed, 
To the kingdom of Ponemah, 
To the land of the Hereafter! 




NOTES 



NOTES 

Wallace Rice 

Page lo. Ojibwa^'s — oh-jib'-wayz — or Chippewas, a tribe of 
the great Algonquin — al-gon'kin — family, settled at the time 
of the story along the lower shores of Lake Superior. 

Dacotah is the older spelling of Dakota, the name given to 
the Sioux and several tribes of the Northwest. In this and the 
foregoing line Longfellow explicitly acknowledges the double 
source whence his material is derived. 

Shuh-shuh-gah — shoo-shoo'gah. The accent in this, as in 
all the subsequent proper names of the poem, is indicated by 
the meter. If, beginning the count with the line, the syllable 
numbers odd, it is stressed; otherwise not. 

Nawadaha — nah-wah-dah'ha. It means "the singer." 

Page 16. Chetowaik — chet-oh-wake'. As in so many cases 
throughout, its English meaning follows. 

INIahn is pronounced as spelled. Wawa — waw'-waw. 

Mushkodasa — mush-koh-day'sa. 

Tawasentha- — tah-wah-sen'tha. The Indian name of a val- 
ley near the capital of New York State, now known as Nor- 
man's Kill. 

Hiawatha — hec-ah-wah'tha. It signifies "the wise man," or 
teacher. 

Page 19. The quarry of red pipestone lies in the Coteau des 
Prairies, the dividing line between the valleys of the Missouri 
and St. Peter's Rivers. It was sacred ground to the Indians 
of the North, who came here through centuries of time to ob- 
tain the material for the peace-pipes, so necessary for their 
solemn ceremonials. 

Gitche Manito— git'chee man'-i-toh — is the Great Spirit, 
corresponding somewhat to our understanding of God. 

Ishkoodah — ish-koo-dah'— signifies "fire," and so a fire in 
the heavens, a comet, personified as a spirit in human form. 

201 



NOTES 

Page W. Calumet — carvuh-iiiut — is the Norman form of the 
French chalumet, derived from the Latin calamelhis, diminu- 
tive of calamus, a reed. It was applied by tlie French mission- 
aries to the long reed stem of the peace-pipe, the })()wl of whicli 
is made of redstone. 

Wyoming valley, the scene of a dreadful massacre of inno- 
cent Americans by Indians and British sympathizers during 
the Revolutionary War, celebrated ])y Campbell in his "Ger- 
trude of Wyoming." 

Tuscaloosa is in Alabama. 

Pukwana- — puk-wav'na- — means "smoke." 

Page 21. Shoshonies — sho-shoh'neez — and Omahas — ol/ma- 
hawz- — the accent has been transferred by Longfellow. All 
the proper names in this passage arc familiar names of Indian 
tribes in the Northwest. This is the beginning of the legend 
which accounts for the establishment of the pipestone quarries 
as neutral ground among the aborigines. 

Page '2J^.. Mudjekeewis- — mud-jee-kcc'wiss. 

Wampum — wom'pum — shell beads used by tlie Indians as 
money, and for purposes of decoration, as here. The word is 
of Massachusetts origin and means "white," though tlie more 
valuable wampum was made of })urple shells. 

Wabasso — waw-bas'so— means the cold region where the fur 
of the rabbit is white, hence the North. 

Mishc-^NIokwa — misl/ee moh'cpia — is the fabulous bear, the 
father of all bears, used in aboriginal lore to frighten cliildren, 
so terril)le was it. Tlie story here preserves the tradition which 
led the Indian to })ay a semi-serious but profound respect to 
the bear whenever lie encountered it. 

Page 26. Sliaugodaya — shaw-goh-day\a — means "coward." 
Kabeyun — kay'bee-yun — or the west wind, is the bringer of 
warmth and fertility, hence the chief of the winds. 
Wabun — waw'bun. 
Shawondasee — shaw-won-day'see. 
Kabibonokka — kah-bib-oh-nol/ka. 

202 



NOTES 

Page 38. Wabun-Annung — waw'bun aii'iuing- — is the star of 
the east, Lucifer, tlie morning star. 

Shingebis — shin'ghee-bis — a name applied to diving birds 
of various species. 

Page 30. Wawa — wa'.v'waw^ — is the wild goose. 

Page S£. Opechce — oli-pce'chee. 
Owaissa — oh-way^sa. 
November is the ^loon of Snow-shoes. 

Page SJf.. Nokomis — no-koh^mis. The legend following is the 
story of the birth of Manebozho. 

Page 35. Wenonah — weh-noh'na- — is the one Christian name 
given us by the Indians. It signifies first-born among daugh- 
ters, whether to tlie mother, or in a given place. It is now 
spelled Winona. 

Page 36. Wahonowin — wah-ho-nol/win — is an exclamation of 
grief, like "alas." 

Gitche Gumee — git'chee gu'mec — means "great sea," or 
Lake Superior. 

Page 38. The Naked Bear — Heckewelder records the tradition 
of a bear without fur except for a spot on its back, wliich is 
the one slain by ^Nludjekeewis in the preceding canto of the 
poem. 

Ewa-yea — ee'waw-yay — is the beginning of an Indian 
lullaby.^ 

The "Death-Dance of tlie spirits" is tlie aurora borealis, or 
northern liglits, thought by the Indians to be the ghosts of 
departed braves dancing in shining raiment. 

The "pathw^ay of the ghosts" is the Milky Way. 

Minne-wawa and Mudway-aushka — these two Indian words 
are intended — by onomatopoeia- — to represent the sounds made 
by the wind soughing through the trees and rippling on the 
shore. 

Page 39. This chant to the fire-fly is a children's song among 
the Algonquins. 

Page JfO. This is reminiscent of episodes in the life of St. 

203 



NOTES 

Francis of Assisi. All the details properly appertain to Mane- 
hozho. 

lagoo — ee-ah'goo — was the teller of travellers' tales in his 
day. 

Page Jf.1. Adjidaunio — ad-jid-aw'moh — the red squirrel. 

Page J^2. Soangetaha — sohn-ge-tal/ha. 

Page J4.3. Minjckahwun— niin-jec-kal/wun. 

Page ^5. Esconaba, now Escanaba — es-ca-naw'ba — is a river 
and district in the upper peninsula of Michigan, now celebrated 
for its iron mines. 

Page J^G. Wawbeek is the rock itself. 

Page Ji.7. Apukwa means "bulrush." 

Kago — kah'goh — is the Indian equivalent of "beware.*' 

Page J^9. Baim-wawa- — bame-waw'waw — represents to the In- 
dian the sound of thunder, the equivalent of our words rumble, 
grumble, and the like. 
Kenabeek — ke-nah'beek. 

Page oO. Minnehaha, the name of the heroine, is also the name 
of these beautiful falls, half a mile from the point where the 
Minnehaha River debouches into the Mississippi, not far from 
Minneapolis. 

Page 5'2. Bena- — bee'na. 

Page 53. Omcme — oh-mee'mee. 

Mahnomonee — mah-noh-moh'nee — is misacccnted, being the 
name of the town in Michigan known as Menominee — me- 
nom'in-ee. 

Shahbomin — shah-boh'min. 

Bemahgut — be-mah'goot. 

Okahahwis is the fresh-water herring, a delicious fish still 
abundant in the Great Lakes. The whitefish, best of all, is 
not mentioned, curiously enough. 

Page 5J^. Mondamin — mon-dah'min — is the maize, or Indian 

corn, the chief staple of the Indian's food supply. 
Page 57. Wawonaissa — waw-won-ay'sa — is the whippoorwill. 

204 



NOTES 

Both the Indian and the Enghsh words are supposed to repre- 
sent the plaintive call of this night-bird. 

Page 62. Chibiabos — kib-i-ah'bohss — is the prince of the land 
of spirits, the Algonquin Pluto. 

Kwasind— kwah'sind — is an aboriginal Hercules. 

Page 6Jf.. Poneniali — poh-nee'ma. 

Manito— nian'i-toh — is here the Indian equivalent of the 
Christian's guardian angel. 

Page 66. Yenadizze — yen-a-diz'zeh — means a youthful profli- 
gate. 

Page 67. Pauwating — paw-way'ting- — is the native name for 
the Sault Ste. Marie, connecting Lake Superior with Lake 
Michigan. 

Page 68. Chcemaun — chee-maun' — means a birch-bark canoe. 

Page 69. Taquamenaw — tah-qua-mee'naw — is the name of a 
river in the upper peninsula of Michigan. 

Page 71. Kagh — kahgh — is not the European hedgehog, but 
the porcupine. Its name is derived from the grunting sound it 
makes w^hen disturbed. 

Page 73. Mishe — mish'ee — or mitche means large, great. 

Shawgashee — shaw-ga-shee' — is the fresh- water lobster, 
more properly the crawfish, its name being from the Latin 
crevis, French ecrevisse. 

Page 75. Ugudwash — you-gud-wawsh'. 

Page 77. It is curious that the English word "squirrel" is from 
the Greek and signifies "shad^^-tail." 

Page 78. Kayoshk — kay'oshk. 

Page 81. Megissogwon — mee-jis-sogVon. 
Puggawaugun — pug-ga-waw'gun. 

Page 82. Keneu — ken-oo'. 

Page 84^. Suggema — sud-jee'ma. 

Page 85. Dahinda — da-hind'a. 

205 



NOTES 

Page 87. Mama — niav'iiia. 

Page SS. Pczhokcc — pc-zhoc^kee. 
Pauguk — paw'guck. 

Page 103. Paii-Puk-Kucwis — paw-piu'k-keo'wis — personifies 
tliat aspect of storms which phivs pranks and is whimsical. It 
is an excellent example of the (le})th of the iiumorous sense in 
the Indian. 

Page 10.\. Pemican — pen/i-can- — is made of dried buffalo flesh 
pounded to a powder and packed in bladders, sometimes with 
the addition of buffalo marrow. 

The red willow bark is known as kinnikinnick, and adds a 
})leasant fragrance to smoking tobacco in the aboriginal esti- 
mation. 

Page JOo. Pugasaing — pew-ga-saing', the hist vowel having 
the sound of a in "name." 
Kuntassoo — kun-tah-soo'. 

Page 100. Xagow Wudjoo — nag'oh wud'joh — signifies the 
great piles of drifting sand found on the shores of the Great 
Lakes. 

Page 107. Onaway — on-a-way' — means "awaken." 

Page 108. June is the Moon of Strawberries. 

Page 110. Osseo — os-see'oh. 

Page 111. Oweenee — oh-wec-nee'. 

Page //'?. "Ah, sliowain" — the translation of this Ojibway 



■nfriicc is ill I he r<)ll()\\iniJ' In 



!('. 



Page llJf. Nenemoosha — nc"' n< e-inoo'sha — is a lerm of en- 
dearment. 

Page 118. Wabeno — waw-bee^nc. 

Page 120. Puk-Wudjies — puck-wud^jiz — are mythical dwarfs 
supposed to dwell in forest depths. 

Page 124" Kwo-ne-she — quoh-nee^she. 

Way-muk-kwana — way-muck-q^ah''na. 
Kahgahgee — kah-gah- j ee^ 

206 



NOTES 

Page 125. GuskewMU — gus-kee-waw'. 

Page 127 . Later September is "the ^Nloon wlien leaves are fall- 
ing." 

Pdge 128. Nushka — noosh'ka, the first syllable rhvniing witli 
'^bush." 

Page 129. Wageinin — way'ghee-mln — means a crooked ear of 
maize, and so a man with crooked morals. 

Paimosaid — paj-moh-sade' — means, literally, he who walk.s, 
hence he who goes secretly to steal the corn. 

Ugh is the conventional rendering of the deep Indian gut- 
tural signifying assent, very like a grunt. 

Page 130. Totem — toh-tem — corresponds to the birds, beasts, 
and the like adopted in Europe in feudal days as heraldic 
crests, each peculiar to its own family in the tribe. 

Page 131. ]Mitche (mitcl/ee) ^Nlanito is the evil tendency in 
man and nature personified. 

Page 132. ]Meda — meeMa. 

Page 136. Peboan — })ee'boh-ann. 

Page 137. Baim-wawa is here })ronounced bay-im-waw'waw. 

Page 13S. Lines 2-J32 inclusive on this page were recited at 
Longfellow's funeral. 

Page 130. The pouch of healing, more commonly called ''medi- 
cine bag," is carn\(l by every Indian and regarded by him as 
iuHnitelv sncrrd. It contjiins stones, bits of aiu'mals, and other 
things belieAcd to secure ;i liMppy life. 

Page IJfO. Hi-au-ha — hye-oh-hah'. 

Page H3. Medanim— mee-dah mm — signifies the healing art. 

Page IJfJf. Ojeeg — oh-jeeg''. 

Page IJfS, Inmewug — i-nin/e-w^ug — is the name of two of the 
pieces in the game of bowls. 

Ozaw^abeeks — oh-zah-waw^beeks. 
Sheshebwug — shesh'eb-wug. 

207 



NOTES 

Page IJpS. Meshinauwa — mce-shin-aw'waw. 
Onagon — oli-nah'gon. 

Vage 157. Jeebi — jee'bi. 

Page 158. Pislinekuli — pish-nec-koo'' — Is another sort of wikl 
goose, the brant. 

Page 162. Wajwasslnio — way-waw'sini-oli. 

Page 165. Nce-ba-na\v-balg\s — nee-bah-na\vn)aigs, the last syl- 
lable with the name sound of a. 

Page 166. Dush-kwo-ne-she — dusli-quoh-nee'she. 

Page 176. Bukadawin — bew-ka-dahVin. 
Ahkosewin — ah-koh-see'win. 

Page 182. Waubewjon — waw-bee-wye'on. 

Page 184' Segw^un — see-gwun' — means the springtime. 

Page 185. Miskodeed is the native name for spring beauties. 

Page 188. Annemeekee — an-nem-ec'kee. 

Page 192. Shada— shay'da. 

Page 193. "Beautiful is the sun, O strangers," etc. This is 
almost word for word the speech recorded in the Jesuit Rela- 
tions as made by an ancient chief of the Illinois to Father 
Marquette. 



208 



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